|An Unhealthy Obsession| - Chapter 3 - MetalMistress (2024)

Chapter Text

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“How hurtful it can be to deny one's true self and live a life of lies just to appease others.”
―June Ahern

It's been a long ass f*ckin' night.

You pull your car up into your driveway and let out a heavy sigh as you turn your key and switch off the car engine. With a melancholy expression on your face, you tightly grip the steering wheel within your fingers and drop your head down to rest against the top of the it. Your body hurts all over and you've got more than a few tender spots that probably need to be looked at, but you try to focus on the way your lungs swell as you breathe and attempt to force the tense muscles in your body to relax. The hunt you had gone on tonight hadn't gone as smoothly as you had hoped, unfortunately. Apparently, your chosen victims, Josh and Thessien Stevenson, had a little bit more fight in them than you originally anticipated.

In the back of your mind, you know you should've seen it coming. Josh Stevenson worked at a metalworking shop lifting heaps of metal scrap all f*cking day and was a tall sonofabitch at that, and Thessien was just a nasty c*nt that packed a helluva punch. You can attest to that, your f*cking ribs are aching right now. You knew it was going to be a difficult job, but the f*ckers were rolling in drug money from selling weed laced with LSD to f*cking high schoolers. The weed wasn't even the bad part-- it was them purposefully lacing it all with LSD so that they'd get hooked on it and keep coming back or more. Their 'get-rich-quick' plan worked and you neededthat cash... not to mention those f*ckers just needed to bedead.

Bypassing their security system and getting into the house was the easy part. Although the surveillance cameras they had were bought from a reputable and high-tech company, they were very poorly installed and not put in the most optimal locations. You were literallyable to tuck and roll out of the camera's line of sight and just walk through the front door, you were just baffled at how f*cking easy it was to get inside.

And as if that wasn't baffling enough, even the cameras insidethe house were poorly placed. Prime locations for security cameras are places like the kitchen, the living room, hallways-- places with a lot of foot traffic. Thessien's cameras? She put them inside the individual rooms themselves. You could be wrong, but youhighlydoubt an intruder is going to be interested in snooping around the sh*tty downstairs half bathroom. Hell, the only reason you even noticed the camera in the first place was because it was sitting on the bathroom sink, facing out towards the f*ckinghallway!You had been trying to sneak down the hall to get to the living room, where Thessien was sitting and watching TVwhen you noticed the damn thing and promptly flashed your middle finger at it for recording you.

The living room is where things started to get tricky for you. Not only was there yet another security camera aimed towards the doorway, but this one was actually positioned decently. No part of the living room was left unseen, thanks to the way your stupid victims-to-be wired it to sit in the farthest upper corner of the room. And as if your job wasn't already difficult to begin with, the entire house had hardwood floors running through it. Normally this wouldn't be a problem for you if they were well kept, but the Stevenson couple tended to devote any and all extra cash they had to the drugs the bought and sold. Their place looked good on the outside, but inside? Completely run down. Squeaky floors galore! Sneaking up on Thessien would be hard.

...Or would it?

After you peeked into the room, you found Thessien sitting on the couch, curled up in a fluffy blanket and completely enraptured by the show she happened to be watching-- which was a serial killer documentary based off of your boyfriend, if you can f*cking believe it. Perhaps if you were in the right state of mind at the time, you would've found the situation to be ironic and mildly amusing. After all, what are the chances that you would just so happen to choose to kill Thessien on the very night she decided to watch a documentary on Serial Killers, one about your infamous boyfriend no less? Very low chances, you'd imagine.

However, you were...frustratedat the revelation that your victim happened to be shivering in fear of your boyfriend and not in fear of you. See, you've been in the serial killer game nearly as long as Danny as-- granted you're about 3 years younger than he is and are considerably less experienced, that doesn't mean you're a rookie by anystretch of the imagination. It frustrated you, because your name was not given the same level of respect that his was. If you were to sit in and eavesdrop on a conversation about who is the scarier serial killer, the infamous 'Ghost Face' would always be ranked far higher than 'The Shade' on the scary scale. It was cruel, in your opinion. Highly unfair! You had worked just as hard for your reputation as he had!

Rage clouded your mind and youverynearly came sprinting into the room with your blade raised high up in the air, but stopped short at the sound of Thessien squealing at a particularly frightening jump-scare in the documentary. You realized that the documentary she was watching could work to your advantage. She's also likely to be super f*ckin' high, if the messy pile of weed and co*ke on the coffee table is anything to go by. If you were to attempt to mimic Josh's body language, you realized you could just...waltz right in.

And you did.

Thessien didn't even figure out who you really were after you sat down next to her on the couch and wrapped an arm around her, nor did she stop to think twice before leaning up against you. You couldn't help but grin at the time-- she must have been blazed out of her mind, because not even 30 seconds later, she was purring and tryin to feel you up to 'initiate' something. Then she groped your tit and quickly came to the realization that her husband doesn't have a set of tit*.

To say she panicked was an understatement. Screaming at the top of her lungs, she tried to lurch away from you, but you havedangerouslyquick reflexes and managed to gather up a large fistful of her greasy hair before she was able to get away in time. Unfortunately, you had forgotten one very important thing; she could hit.Hard.Before you could even blink, she started blindly swinging left and right and managed you clock you more than just a couple times in the ribs, which in turned made you painfully rasp for air.

In retaliation to her swings, you wordlessly drove your blade in between her ribs and drove your foot into her stomach withjust enough oomph to send her reeling backwards. Blood spurted out of the wound due to the amount of force you used to rip out your blade, but you paid no mind to the mess before throwing yourself at her once more. Shetriedto keep you from stabbing her in the chest by using her arm to block your way, but you stabbed her arm in rapid succession. She screamed, squealed, and begged for her life while trying to push you off of her, but you silenced her pleas by slitting her across the the throat. With a wet gurgle, blood began pouring out of her mouth as she fell to the floor and started to bleed out.

Now, youwould'vestarted taking pictures of the body at this point, but the sound of a car pulling up to the driveway made you freeze up. You only had enough time to make a run for the darkest corner of the room to hide in the shadows before Josh came strutting into the room, reeking of sweat, grease, and burnt rubber. To make matters worse, he started calling for Thessien as soon as he walked through the front door. Paranoia flooded your veins as you glanced back over to where Thessien was sprawled out on the floor with her shaky bloodied fingers wrapped around her throat in a poor attempt to save herself. Although clearly going into shock, she feebly attempted to sit up and call out to him for help, but she only ended up choking and gurgling on her own blood and saliva. By the time Josh had entered the living room and found her, Thessien had already completely bled out. He rushed to her side to try and help her, but she was already gone.

Distracted by his grief, he began to openly mourn her. You took the opportunity to snap a quick picture to print out for your collection later, but the sound of the camera shutter going off brought Josh out of his stupor. It was like a bomb had gone off-- as soon as he realized someone else was in the room with him, he stood up and started tossing bits and pieces of broken furniture around the room in a fiery rage in an attempt to find his wife's killer. You had tried to avoid getting hit, but a flying chunk of wood managed to smack you in the ribcage hard enough to make you grunt-- you consider yourself lucky for surviving that, since one end of the chunk of wood was sharp enough to actually impale somebody.

It's the little victories that count the most in the end.

But despite the little victory, the war wasn't over. Josh had heard your grunt of pain and had snatched you up off the floor before you could even f*cking blink. Fat, grimy, grease-covered fingers wrapped around your neck with the intent of choking you out, and panic had nearly managed to overwhelm you and cloud your judgment. Instinct demanded you to drop your blade and attempt to pry Josh's hands away from your throat, but logic overpowered instinct and you ended up slicing him across the wrists instead. He cried out in agony and threw you to the floor, but you managed to slit his throat and several arteries on the way down. After he fell to the ground in a pool of his own blood and began to bleed out, you took the time to catch your breath before going to work. Pictures had to be taken, messages had to be left for the police, and security cameras had to be flipped off.

Speaking of security cameras....

Up until recently, you used to avoid security cameras like they were the devil. In the past you would've gone the extra mile to either avoid that camera or just outright destroy it. The only reason you're not as concerned with them anymore is because Danny had explained that they were part of the reason the media was getting the two of you confused. As long as you avoided the cameras, no one saw you. If you weren't seen, then you didn't exist. You didn't have a face to be recognized by. But now, you do. Sort of.

Much like Danny, you're not concerned with being filmed or recorded in your killer get-up anymore. This is because you've taken precautions to better protect and hide your identity. No more are the days of wearing ski-masks and black nondescript clothes! They've been replaced by something with a little more taste,a little morerefinement. Instead of wearing a boring ski mask with eyeholes, you wear a black hood that covers your entirehead, face, and neck. The rest of your body is covered by black latex gloves, black knee-high boots, and a black jumpsuit with a fitted black leather trench coat thrown over top of it. Wearing all black has become part of your signature look when you're feeling up to painting the town red for the night.

Your look isn't the only thing that got switched around. Danny helped give your killer persona a new name, a new title. In the past, you used to just go along with whatever the media decided to name you. But now? Now you have a name. Danny came up with the clever little number after tagging along on one of your hunts a couple weeks ago. His intentions for tagging along were purely for 'research purposes' as he stated, but you're 90% sure it was actually because he was bored and wanted to see you in action.

After you finished taking out your intended target, he pointed something out to you. According to him, the way you stuck to the shadows and hid in plain sight was absolutely remarkable.That's how he came up with your name;The Shade. You thought it was quite the clever double entendre. Shade. That could be taken one of two ways; 'shade' as in the shadows, or a 'shade' as in a ghost, or spirit. The way you hide in the shadows is the more obvious symbolism behind the name, but you also like how your name can be subtly connected to Danny's title of 'Ghost Face'. You like to feel that you're just as much of a ghost as he is-- you just happen to be a different kind.

Since the night of your 'reinvention', the media has gone absolutely bonkers. You felt like you had been reborn after Danny had blessed you with your new title, and had gone out on a killing spree shortly there after to, uh... celebrate. Roseville had began to panic at the appearance of a 'new' killer in town, and the police were apparently horrified because you had left a special calling card at each crime scene for them to find. Every time you killed a victim, you always wrote out the words"Shadows linger; The Shade watches" nearby the body in the victim's blood.You just had to write it in cursive, of course. Because, you know, you're f*cking classylike that.

You are brought out of your thoughts by the sound of a dog barking in the distance. After you come down from nearly jumping out of your skin, you let out a heavy sigh and reach over to grab a hefty suitcase full of the drug money that you nabbed from the Stevenson's place. Once the suitcase is in your possession, you grab your keys, get out of your car, lock the doors, and make your way towards your house.

As you stalk your way up to your front porch, you cannot help but shake your head in disbelief at the sound of faint music emanating from within your house. If there is music playing, then that must mean Danny is home and is probably upstairs in what is technically yourdesignated office space, though the man has claimed it as his own since you rarely use the room anyway. f*cking Danny, that stupidly sexy son of a bitch-- he's been living with you for a whopping total of 4½ weeks now and he has already seemingly made himself completely at home. You can't complain too much though; as annoying as the chaotic crackhead can be sometimes, he's a fun person to live with and things are definitely never boring with him around. So with a soft chuckle and another shake of your head, you walk up to the door, unlock it, and then saunter inside, feeling eager to greet the love of your life.

As you shut the door behind you, the music playing from deeper suddenly greatly decreases in volume-- which means that Danny knows you're home. As you walk further into your living room, you curse at the sight of a fresh trail of blood droplets leading towards the stairs. With an irritated snarl, you shout; "Danny f*cking Johnson, did you get BLOOD on my hardwood floors?!"

He doesn't answer you, of course. Dirty co*ck-sucking son of a bitch.

With a roll of your eyes, you rip out a small rag from your coat pocket and bend at the knees to wipe up the blood. The rag is already coated with blood from earlier tonight, but you manage to find a clean spot to use, so that you aren't just smearing blood around on your floor. Thankfully it seems like this little trail is the only blood splatter around, so hopefully you won't have to clean up any more unwanted surprises.

As you rise back up onto your feet, Jinx comes trotting down the stairs, mewling excitedly at the sound of your arrival. The moment she makes it down to the bottom step, she twists her head around to look at your exhausted form with those big, bright orange eyes of her. Even though you are dressed from head to toe in black, have a couple blood splatters on you, and your face is covered, she fearlessly approaches you with her tail stickinghighup in the air-- a clear sign that she ishappyto see you.

"Hi sweet girl. I'd pick you up, but I'm covered in blood. You'll have to come to me." You coo at her as she runs over to you as fast as her stubby little legs will carry her. She yowls up at you, bringing you to pause and drop your shoulder towards her ever so slightly. Taking the hint, she crouches a bit and wiggles her little fluffy tush from side to side before launching herself at you. She lands on your shoulder and purrs affectionately while settling her weight against you as you slowly sit up. While most folk would be confused as to why their cat decides to sit on their shoulder like a parrot, you're unbothered. She always does this to you and Danny after the both of you come home from... work.It's her way of saying 'HEY, YOU f*ckER! I MISSED YOU!'.

Shaking your head in mild amusem*nt, you tighten your grip on the suitcase in your hand and begin making your way up the steps as you stuff the bloody rag back into your pocket. As you draw closer to the office, you can hear Danny talking on the phone in an overly polite tone, which tells you that he's probably talking to someone as his 'Jed' persona. Likely his boss at the newspaper company, if you had to make a guess.

(f*ck you for being so hot, Danny!)
(Also, this is lowkey how I picture his face to look--)

The sound of your arrival as you come casually strolling inDanny'syouroffice prompts the man in question to lift his head up and look at you. Those golden amber eyes of his widen and sparkle with recognition. Like an excited child, he almost hops out of the seat and rushes over to greet you, but the sound of his boss droning on and on in his ear about needing the latest article on his desk A.S.A.P makes him fall back against the armchair with an irritated huff.

Amused by his annoyance, you quietly chuckle and walk further into the room. The sound of your boots clicking against the hardwood floors beneath your feet echo within the large spacious office, as you make your way towards the computer desk that Danny has been using to write his articles while he's at home. You set the suitcase onto the desk with a sigh as Jinx jumps down from your shoulder, and turn your head to watch Danny reassure his boss, once again,that the article he's been working on for the past two days will on his desk within the immediate future.

"Yes, sir, I am on my way. I promise, the article on this murder will be on your table in the short term." Danny candidly explains with a soft chuckle and an exaggerated roll of his eyes. Something within your heart trembles at the way his amber eyes pull away from you and instead focus on the table positioned by the armchair he has made himself oh so very comfortablein, despite being covered in blood. His eyes study the various maps and notepads littering the table as he keeps his hands busy by polishing his knife. His hands falter mid-polish, however, after his boss seemingly asks him something that manages to mildly catch him off guard. Danny's eyes once again focus back on you, and he responds to his boss's question without blinking; "No sir, you weren't hearing things. Mywifejust entered the room-- just got home from work. ...Yes, sir."

"WIFE?!" You viciously hiss in a harsh whisper while spinning around to look Danny in the eye after angrily ripping your mask over your head. Glaring at your boyfriend through narrowed eyes, you brace one hand against the desk and rest the other on your hip as you tilt your head to the side, impatiently waiting for him to give you a reasonable explanation.

Danny's eyes bulge at the indignant tone in your voice, and he frowns and politely excuses himself from his boss before placing his hand over the phone's mic. "What? Why are you so mad!? It sounds more believable if I introduce you as my wife rather than just girlfriend!" He irritably explains before frowning a bit deeper and mumbling under his breath; "...Do you not want to be my wife one day? Is that why you're angry?"

The heartbroken expression on Danny's face tugs at your heart strings and makes your anger melt-- perhaps you had accidentally hit a soft spot that you hadn't been aware of? Guilt makes your heart clench as you run your fingers through your tangled, messy hair and push it out of your face, while desperately scrambling to come up with an answer. "No, that's not why I got angry. I just... I wasn't expecting you to say that so soon.We've only been 'officially' dating for a little over a month, and we've been 'unofficially' together for 6 going on 7 months, if you count the whole 'stalking each other without realizing it' part. I honestly just wasn't expecting it. I suppose part of me immediately assumed that you were just calling me that to keep your cover from getting blown and that there wasn't any real desire behind it. I never really saw you as a person who'd dream about getting married... I guess I assumed too much. I'm sorry."

Danny narrows his eyes at you suspiciously before taking his hand off the phone so he can beckon you over by wriggling his index finger. As you approach, he tosses aside his knife and polishing rag and points to his bloody lap, giving it a light pat for emphasis. Nodding your head, you flop down in his lap and sigh softly as he huddles you close and presses a tender kiss to your cheek. With a sigh of contentment, he drops his nose down to rest in the crook of your neck and just... stays there for a moment, before forcefully exhaling through his nose. "...I think it's funny how you stalked me for 6 months and somehow still manage to know so little about me."

"To be fair, youdomake about as much sense as a set of the cheshire cat in Alice in Wonderland, sometimes. The cartoon version is the one I'm referring to, but I'm sure the live action one lines up just as nicely." You cheekily retort. "Not to mention, you arecompletelyunpredictable."

"That's fair." Danny chuckles before dragging the bridge of his nose up the side of your neckline, pausing to press a kiss just below your jawline. "...But you know me better than anyone else, so that has to count for something. And despite my teasing, you're actually correct in your assumption that I'm not the kind of guy who sits around and... fantasizes about that sort of thing... but I need you around. You're mine. You're the exception, and you'llalwaysbe the exception. Even if you ever get fed up and say you're 'done with me and my sh*t', I'll find some way to wriggle back into your life. I'm a fever you can't sweat out, babe. You're stuck with me."

"You are a dingleberry forever stuck to my ass crack." You dreamily sigh before breaking out into a fit of giggles as Danny starts to viciously tickle your ribs in retaliation.

"Nasty little bitch." Danny playfully growls at you with his lips pressed up right against your earlobe, making you curl up into a protective ball in his lap as you girlishly giggle in absolute glee. He chuckles and presses a gentle kiss just below your earlobe before turning his attention back to the phone. With a tranquil hum, he brings the phone up to his ear. "Hello? Sir? Yes sir, I'm back. I'm sorry to keep you waiting for so long, I know you're a verybusy man. Hmm? Oh, my wife needed my assistance with something. ...What's that? Office party? Oh, that was tonight? ...Yes, I'll still be able to make it. ...Bring the missus? I mean, I'm not sure if she'll want to-- ...Yes. Yes, I'll tell her that you insisted she come along. Yes sir, we'll be leaving shortly. See you soon."

After he hangs up the phone, he sighs heavily and flops his head back to rest against the back of the armchair. Something about his overall expression just reads 'f*cking exhausted' to you. Maybe it's the bags under his eyes, maybe it's the frown on his face. It's probably the bags, to be honest... they do look pretty heavy. Then again--they usually are, but they seem to be especiallyheavy tonight. Without really thinking about it, you take off your gloves and reach a hand up to lightly trace the outline of his facial features with the delicate pad of your fingers.

"You look tired." You hum under your breath while carefully tracing the outer edge of the stubble covering his jawline.

"I am." He says with a heavy sigh before reaching his hand up to tenderly intertwine your fingers together. He presses a sweet kiss to your knuckles and holds your hand close to his chest before slowly twisting his neck around to look at you, where he admires you before flashing you a soft, crooked smile. "How was your hunt?"

"Mmm, I'll get to that in a minute." You sweetly hum while faintly running your fingers across the bottom of Danny's chin, making him chuckle. His laughter hitches in his throat, however, when your fingers suddenly wrap around his jaw and force him to look at you. Your pleasant smile has completely dropped and made way for a deadpan expression. "Why don't you tell me why there was bloodon my hardwood floor downstairs?"

His initial hiss turns into an exaggerated groan when you drop your hand down towards his throat. He grits his teeth together and rolls his eyes into the back of his head. "Fuuuuuuuuck, you're so hot when you're pissy. Be careful cupcake, or you'll make me pop!"

You violently snort and drop your head down to rest against his chest while quietly snickering to yourself, never releasing your hold on his throat. "Stop it-- Stop being funny, I'm trying to be mad at you, you stupid ol' f*ck."

"Ooooh, I love it when you call me names! Hurt me some more, mommy!" He dramatically whines while squirming around in the armchair, making you bust out laughing as you try to hold onto him by wrapping your arms around his neck and shoulders to keep yourself from falling. Dramatically bucking his hips causes you to literally bounceon his lap in a rather suggestive manner, something he seems to be thoroughly entertained by if the dirty smirk on his face is anything to go by.

"You're such a dirty little slu*t, Danny." You playfully retort with a violent gigglesnort, rapidly shaking your head back and forth in disbelief at the ridiculous antics of your boyfriend. Danny just maniacally cackles in retaliation, clearly enjoying the way you playfully sigh in defeat and just give into his antics before snuggling up against him with a low hum. With your arms curled up and tucked against your chest, you nuzzle against Danny as he wraps his arms around you and holds you close. Sighing contently, he buries his nose into your hair and hums appreciatively at the way you flood his tenses; the touch of your skin pressed up against his, the tickle of your hair caressing his cheek, the sound of your tranquil, steady breathing, the intoxicating smell of your natural scent flooding his nostrils-- it's oddly comforting, which is something he never really thought he'd ever get to experience in his life.

One of his blood-soaked hands reaches up towards the back of your head, where he sinks his fingers into your hair and begins to tenderly thread his fingers through your pretty locks, steadily untangling them as he goes. The swell of his cheek is pressed against the side of your head as he pulls you impossibly closer, like a jealous child holding their favorite toy away from their handsy sibling. Who he's trying to keep you away from shall forever remain a mystery lost to the ages, but the notion of him simply craving physical contact with you after a long day is sweet.

"Tell me about the hunt you went on tonight." He quietly mumbles, mildly aware of the way his stubble lightly scratches at your skin. With a heavy sigh, you dramatically flop your head back and exaggeratedly roll your eyes, prompting Danny to let out a deep, gravely laugh. He shakes his head back and forth in amusem*nt as a wicked smirk curls onto his face, eyes twinkling mischievously. "That bad, huh?"

"UGH, it was horrible. Okay, if I'm going to tell you this, then you have to promise to stop me if I end up going on for hours. I could bitch all day about this hunt, it was so f*cking annoying." You reply with an annoyed huff before lifting your head back up to stare into Danny's gorgeous amber eyes, closely watching your face for the slightest change in expression. You frown and let out another dramatic sigh, which in turn makes him arch an eyebrow in interest. "Alright, so I told you about the Stevenson couple, right? Josh and Thessien? Mr. 'Roid Rage and the weird c*nt with the name that sounds like she was named after a witch from the middle ages?"

"Ahhh yes; the controlling, mentally abusive twat and his creepy f*cking wife who can't keep her hands to herself. Yeah, I remember you telling me about them... specifically, I remember you telling me about how sh*tty their security system was set up." Danny hums softly while nodding his head. "I got curious about it a couple days ago, so I went for a quick look myself-- Don't worry, I was in and out before anyone could even figure out I had been there. You were right, though-- their set up is horrible. I walked through the entire house, and no one even knew I was there. I wasn't even trying to be subtle."

"When I tell you Itucked and rolled to their front door, I mean I literallytucked and rolled to their front door. Their stupid motion-sensor camera didn't see sh*t. I bet the news will say that it looks like I had just 'teleported' into the house." You scoff while sitting up to irritably cross your arms over your chest and to grumpily glare off to the side of the room like a child, only to roll your eyes dramatically and look back at your boyfriend's beautiful face. "Anyway, so I got inside and flipped off a couple cameras on my way to Thessien. She was sitting in the living room squealing like a stuck pig while watching a TV serial killer documentary-- one on you, might I f*cking add."

Danny lets out a boisterous laugh that makes his entire chest bounce. "Was she really?!"

"Yes!" You roar angrily, wildly flailing your arms in such a way that it makes your boyfriend outright cackle. "GOD, it made me so angry! I just-- I want-- I deserve-- Augh. Look, I know you're the reigning serial killer here in Florida. Okay? I knowthe extent of your legacy, I've read all about your kills and how you're wanted insomany different counties, insomany different states,allover the country. I've listened to you talk about it for hours, and I enjoyed it! Don't get me wrong, I highly respect you and what you can do. But what about my legacy? I've killed people too, nearly as many as you have! Corrupt business men, drug dealing high ballers, greedy money-spenders, child abusers, rapists! I've made headlines! I've got newspaper articles written about me! But no one thinks I'm f*cking scary! When people in Roseville think 'scary', they think of YOU. They whisper YOUR name. What about ME? What about MY name? Where's MY f*cking documentary?! Where's MY crown?!"

A deep and gravely purr shamelessly salacious in nature rumbles through Danny's chest as you continue to furiously fume within the comfortable confines of your boyfriends lap, unaware of the dark and lustful thoughts that have begun to swirl within his twisted mind. You ramble on about craving the same kind of fear, attention, and respect that his name gets, speaking how it is your goddamn birthrightto be just as respected as he is, and all Danny can do in this moment is just smile contentedly and stare up at you through lidded eyes as you rant and rave on. You're so lividabout the media's lack of respect for your name and are so caught up in venting about it, in fact, that you fail to notice the way Danny wordlessly repositions you so that you're straddling his thick, muscular thighs.

His strong hands find your hips and give them a suggestive squeeze as he settles into the back of the armchair, openly admiring you with an utterly lovesick expression on his face while you spit out a string of obscenities specifically directed at Roseville's media. Your anger in it's rawest form is truly quite the sight for him to behold; it's like watching an angry goddess crack open the heavens and rain hellfire down upon the very people who've forsaken her. Your rage has never failed to get his heart racing with excitement and anticipation. But despite the way your anger is able to set his loins on fire, his main concern is actually your overall well-being.

He might be downright twisted and f*cked up in the head, but he doescare deeply for you.

Danny coos sweetly at you to get your attention, making you stop mid-rant and immediately freeze up on the spot. It wasn't done intentionally. Honestly, you really can't help it-- you're so used to him being crude, being chaotic, and making sexual remarks left and right, so he never fails to catch you off guard whenever he decides to speak soft and sweetly to you. It's why your heart decides to throb erratically within your chest after he reaches a hand up to tenderly caress the side of your face, and it's why you audibly swallow before slowly leaning into his touch.

"Cupcake..." He sweetly drawls while stroking the swell of your cheek with the soft pad of his thumb. "You've got to breathe. You'll get the reputation you deserve all in due time, but do remember that you didn't have a name or face to go by until recently. Killers like that rarely get attention-- they're usually forgotten unless the media makes a huge uproar about it."

"I know, I'm just sick of feeling... unappreciated. I know I'm not as experienced as you are out in the field, but I'd still would like my name to at least be treated with the same amount of respect as yours is. I've been doing this killer gig almost just as long as you have." You sigh while turning your gaze downward, only to lift it back up when Danny moves to caress bothof your cheeks and forces you to tilt your head back so he can get a better look at your face. Your eyelashes flutter in anticipation when he leans and draws his face closer to yours, his hot breath fanning over your face.

"I appreciate you." He says with a sweet, if not slightly mischievous smile. "Does that in itself not make you feel...powerful?"

"I'm not sure I understand what you mean--"

"You havemyattention. You, out of all the victims I have ever taken on, are the only one that fought back andsurvived.Granted it was because I totally fell dick-first in love with you, but you get my point." He chuckles darkly before dragging his fingers down the side of your neck, where they continue onward to travel down the curve of your breasts, down your side, and down to your hip which he, once again, tightly squeezes within his grasp before forcing you to harshly grind your hips against his pelvis. He blissfully hisses at the friction before letting out a lustful, shaky breath and dramatically rolling his eyes into the back of his skull as he moans. "Ohhh, I don't think you understand just how wonderfulI find you to be."

A bashful smile curls onto your lips. "I'm listening..."

"I was going to keep it a secret and surprise you, but I suppose it would be perfect timing to reveal it, now." He hums before pressing a gentle kiss to your jawline, just below your earlobe. "I'm writing an article on you and your work as The Shade."

"f*ckING WHAT!?" You screech excitedly whilewildlyflailing your arms about, causing you to nearly fall out of Danny's lap in the process. The man in question violently snorts as he just barelymanages to catch you just in time before you hit the floor. With loud, boisterous laughter, Danny laughs while using his grip on your ass and thighs to safely pull you back up onto his lap, while you just shyly smile and attempt to hide your face with your hands.

"Ah-ah-ah! What the hell do you think you're doing?" Danny playfully scolds you before wrapping his hands around your wrists and carefully prying your hands away from your face. With your face revealed to him once again, his smile brightens tenfold at the bashful expression on your face. He giggles impishly under his breath and slightly shakes his head from side to side. "You're not allowed to hide from me. The only time you're allowed to hide from me is if we're playing a friendly game of 'Hide-And-Go-f*ck'. Do you understand me?"

"Yes. I do--"

"Yes,what?"Danny asks with a pointed arch of his brow. "Mind your manners, baby girl. Yes, what?"

"...Yes,Sir." You quietly correct yourself, clenching your jaw as you hesitantly accept (a very minor and very temporary!) defeat.

"Atta girl. That's my cupcake." Danny softly hums before pressing a sweet kiss to your forehead. His arms wrap around your torso and pull you close to him once more, allowing you to rest your forehead against his chest as the two of you snuggle up together. His hand comes up to cradle the back of your head, and you cannot help but sigh contentedly at the wonderful feeling of his fingers carefully threading through your hair. The two of you just sit in silence for awhile, but eventually Danny pipes back up; "Why don't we get ready for the office party? Shower together, and all that."

You tilt your head back and look up at him while pouting. "Okay... and please don't get mad at me, but please go easy on me in the shower. The hunt tonight wasreallyhard on me, and I'm super sore from--"

"Woah, woah, woah, who said anything about getting freaky-deaky in the shower?!" Danny asks while tilting his head and screwing his face up in confusion. He huffs in disbelief before arching his brow and looking you up and down like you've gone absolutely insane. "Listen toots; you might be my sweet, mouth-watering, irresistible little cupcake, but I don't get to touch unless I have your explicit permission to lick up all of your buttercream frosting. Okay? I don't care if you've been being a co*ck-tease all day. If you say no, then I'm gonna let it go. No questions, no coercing, no complaints andcertainlyno guilt trips. You have myfull permission to cut my co*ck off if I ever make you feel that way. I'm being 100% serious, don't even hesitate. Just slice that f*cker right off, because if I ever make you feel pressured into having sex with me, then I don't deserve to keep my dick afterwards."

You tilt your head back a little farther to stare at Danny with your eyes all big and bright, as your jaw slackens just a little. No one has ever gone out of their way to make sure that you know for certain that you always have the ability and the right to say no... and the fact that a handsy, perverted serial killer with a sick sense of humor is somehow able to understand 'consent' better than most 'normal folk' says a lot about society as a whole to you.

You can't help but break out into a wide smile and enthusiastically nod your head in return. "Thank you."

"No need to thank me. I shouldn't have to be thanked for doing the bare minimum." Danny says with a lazy shrug of his shoulders, before smiling down at you after you quietly hum and rest your cheek against his shoulder. He reaches a hand up to tenderly caress the side of your face, and the both of you stare into each other's eyes for a heartbeat before Danny decides he's done wasting time. Without so much as a warning, Danny scoops you up into his arms bridal style and walks out of the office and stomps down the hall towards your shared bedroom. He hums a happy tune under his breath, chuckling when he finds amusem*nt in the way you dig your fingers into the blood-soaked leather material of his shroud for extra stability.

You bounce in his arms with each loud echoy stomp of his heavy boots, and cling to him as he wordlessly passes through the threshold of your doorway before carefully lowering you back to your feet. As soon as you're back on the ground, he starts heading towards your towel closet and grabs two fluffy towels before spinning around 180°. He finds you still standing in the middle of the room and rapidly flutters his eyelashes before screwing his face up in confusion.

"What are you still doing here?" He asks as a wide smile slowly spreads across his face, before then nodding towards the bathroom door. "Go get naked and set up the shower. We've got to get ready for the party, and I've got to take a look at your battle scars."

Your eyes widen in surprise as stare at him for a few seconds before slowly starting to strip yourself down. "Is that what we're doing? My bad."

"Yes, that's what we're doing." Danny chuckles as he starts to remove his gloves, followed by his signature shroud. The tendons on his hands flex as he rolls his fingers, undoing all the straps and all the buckles piece by piece until the coat is just loosely hanging over his shoulders. Then he flings open the flaps, revealing miles of smooth, rippling muscle. Cool air collides with his sticky skin, causing him to let out a sigh of relief as he rolls his head back and shuts his eyes. Fat droplets of sweat glisten in the moonlight as they dribble down his abdomen, dipping into the crevices between the rigid muscles on his tummy. Eventually he lifts his head back up and shrugs off the heavy shroud with a grunt of effort, allowing it to slowly drop to the floor in a hulking heap with the rest of his clothes, which he quickly and shamelessly discards.

"f*ck, it's hot." He pants out before forcing his eyes open and slowly turning his gaze to you. He tilts his head at a slight angle at the sight of your naked body, looking you up and down while letting out an appreciative purr. "That's pretty hot, too..."

"Shut up." You giggle bashfully while wrapping your arms around your bruised ribcage.

Danny, however, doesnotshut up. A rather dark and alluring chuckle falls from his lips as he slowly begins to make his way over to you, completely unashamed of his apparent nudity. As he saunters over to you, he takes up one of the large plush towels in his hands and shakes it out, before then carefully draping it over your shoulders once he's within range. You stare up at him with sparkling, curious eyes, watching intently as he takes his time to adjust and tweak the towels placement to his liking before letting out a gentle hum of approval once he's satisfied.

Shortly thereafter, his strong hands come up to rest on your shoulders, while the wicked grin that so commonly appears on his face softens into a rare, charming and darling little smile that manages to make your heart swoon and your head feel all fuzzy. Then he tilts his head to the side, as he is prone to do whenever he's observing you-- and he's definitelyobserving you. Those warm syrup-colored eyes of his partially hide away behind a curtain of lashes as he stares down at you, his hot breath gently fanning over your face in perfect rhythm with each steady rise and fall of his chest.

Danny shuffles a little closer to you while letting out a barely audible sigh of contentment. His fingers flex around your shoulders as he affectionately squeezes them, before allowing his hands to slip underneath your towel and slowly slide down the sides of your body, where they eventually settle up against your ribcage. The touch he uses on you is feather light, likely because he's trying to be mindful of the plethora of spotty blue, green, and purple-colored bruises that cover your flesh. Though they are mostly concentrated around your ribs, you do have them in the occassionally awkward spot like on the underside of your breast or on the side of your arm.

"Are you okay?" He whispers inquisitively while carefully pulling you up against his body, before then slowly bringing his face closer to your own. You instinctively inhale when his soft lips just barelygraze your fleshy bottom lip in an almost... tantalizingmanner. Then he slowly drags his lips across your cheek before pressing them up against your earlobe, where he forcefully exhales in a shaky and rather suggestive manner. "...Those are a lot of bruises."

"I'm okay. Really, I'm fine, just... Can we shower, please? I'm getting cold." You mumble back in a quiet voice, unable to trust yourself to speak in a louder volume, lest you risk your voice cracking from the arousal coursing through your veins. Danny purrs before letting out a soft, breathless laugh, and then he kindly nods his head towards the bathroom door before uttering a single command; "Go."

You press a sweet kiss to his lips as a quick 'thank you', before doing an about-face and wordlessly making your way towards the bathroom, with Danny slowly trailing behind you.

After shuffling your naked asses through the door, the both of you get to work on setting up the bathroom for your shower. This meant putting on music, setting up the towels, and then f*cking around with the knobs until the water is the perfect temperature... and while most couples would be worried about having enough space to share a shower together, you and Danny thankfully don't have that problem. The bathroom was built to be quite big, allowing you to have a larger than average shower and more than enough space to move around. It's probably one of the contributing factors towards your and Danny's smooth relationship-- because for the majority of the time, you don't... ever really argue! You might hiss and snarl at each other every now and then for getting all up in each other's personal bubble after some particularly rough hunts, but even then the two of you are nowhere nearas bad as you used to be.

After hanging up your towel on the nearby rack, you pull back the shower curtains and get to work on turning on the shower and tweaking the knobs until the water temperature isjustright. Youbasicallyhave to twist the 'hot' water knob to full capacity, since Danny is the kind of bastard who likes the waterboilinghot. You typically like the water to be pretty hot as well, but you decide to use the 'cold' water knob to help take the edge off. You're already in pain because of your bruises, you donotwant to add third-degree burns into the mix as well.

As you're making some last minute adjustments to the shower, music steadily increasing in volume fills the bathroom. It reverberates off the walls, floors, and high ceilings, causing the melody and lyrics to become mildly distorted. You lift your head and twist your neck around to look over your shoulder and figure out what the hell is going on, but just end up smiling at the sight of Danny placing his phone down on the double vanity countertop.

"You're playing music?" You ask with an easy smile. "What for?"

"To muffle the noise of your passionate screams as we make love." He deadpans while casually flinging his towel up onto the back, only to let out a bout of rowdy laughter after you scoff and dramatically roll your eyes.

"You're incorrigible." You snort while spinning around to climb into the shower, only to let out a shrill squeal when you feel a strong set of hands unexpectedly grip your hips and pull your entire body right up against smooth skin and hard muscle. Danny chuckles evilly as the back of your head settles up against his chest, which bounces with each puffy breath of laughter.

"Maybe. Probably. Definitely." Danny says with a wicked smirk and a devious little giggle, before letting out a quiet sigh of contentment and moving to wrap his arms around you and hold you close. He buries his face into the crook of your neck and smiles when he feels you shiver as a result of the way his breath trails down your naked spine. "In all seriousness though sugar cookie, it's just a little mood music."

"Everything is technically 'mood music', Danny. Just depends on what kind of mood you're talking about." You breathlessly laugh before carefully prying yourself out of his arms and climbing into the shower. As you grab a washcloth, smother it in body wash, and begin to wash yourself, you can hear Danny let out a heavy sigh of annoyance. He starts mumbling some nonsense on the other side of the shower curtain about how much of an irritating little smart ass you can be, but you just snicker to yourself and continue washing up like it's no big deal.

As you're in the middle of lathering up your luscious legs, you perk up at the sound of the shower curtain being pulled back. The hoop rings of the curtain noisily scrape against the metal rod as it is pulled aside, bringing you to lift your head and twist your neck around to look over your shoulder, just in time to see Danny ducking his head a little in order to climb his 6 foot 4 inch tall-ass-motherf*cker-self into the shower with you. After rapidly rattling his head around like a wet dog, he shakes out his dirty hair with his hands before flinging the oily, stringy locks up and out of his face.

"You look like a bulldog when you do that." You cheekily comment with a giggle before going back to scrubbing your legs, only to let out a shrill shriek of surprise when Danny's hand makes harsh contact with your soapy bottom, splattering soap all over the shower as a result. Your lips press together into a tight frown as you shoot an indignant glare over your shoulder in his general direction, but he responds by standing up to his fill height and crossing his arms over his chest.

Never one to let his intimidation tactics work on you, (at least not on the first try!) you stand up straight and spin around to face him head on. He takes a couple steps closer, shamelessly gettingallup in your personal space bubble as you mirror his movements and glare back up at him while crossing your arms over your chest. He studies your defensive stance intently, allowing his half-lidded eyes to scan up and down the entire length of your body a few times before looking back up to meet your gaze once more. Then he decides to bend at the waist and steadily lean down towards you, slowly bringing his face closer to your own.

He pauses only when his lips are a hairsbreadth away from meeting your own. Trying to remain outwardly unaffected, you continue to defiantly stare back at him as his face draws uncomfortably close, but your façade just shatters when Danny curls his upper lip into a sneer and playfully growls before outright barking like a bulldog at you. The sound of your wet palm smacking his chest echoes within the confines of the shower, as do your and Danny's shared idiotic and jovial giggles. You cover your mouth with the back of your hand to bashfully hide your toothy grin, but Danny reaches a hand up and clasps his fingers around your wrists to keep you from doing so.

Curious as to what he is doing, you tilt your head back to look up at Danny as he steadily backs you up until the both of you are standing underneath the hot spray of showerhead. Your heart skips a couple hundred beats when you find him staring down at you rather fondly. His eyes look so very warm and comforting, and your stomach flutters because you honestly don't think he's ever looked at you like that before. It evokes a strange feeling within you, but it's one that you think you like.

He's smiling at you, again. It's a softer, sweeter kind of smile-- the kind that only makes an appearance when you're caught up in your feelings and admiring someone that you truly love and adore. Damn those lips. Those sinful, damned, wickedlips of his. Even now as he smiles down at you looking like the epitome of innocence, those lips of his look so delicious, so inviting, so... tantalizing. Maybe it has something to do with the way droplets of water dribble down his face, only to catch on his stubble and stick to his lips like raindrops sit on top of rose petals-- you're not sure... all you know is that whatever it is, everything about him in this moment makes your heart radiate pure, unadulterated happiness. His eyes, his smile, his mannerisms-- everything.

Danny lets go of your wrists and drops his hands down to rest on the small of your back, where he splays his fingers out wide before pulling you close. He allows his eyes to shut before dropping his forehead down to rest against yours as he sighs contently, happy to just zone out and enjoy this moment with you. His hands flex against your back, fingertips lightly digging into your soft skin as he holds you impossiblyclose.

"How are you feeling?" He whispers, his voice only audible due to the acoustics of your bathroom.

"I feel fine." You return with a soft sigh before moving to wrap your arms around Danny's torso. You nestle your cheek up against one of his pecs, while your hands find purchase on his rippling back muscles. He chuckles quietly at the feeling of your hands greedily grabbing at him however you can, and makes a point to hold you as close to him as physically possible to help warm you up-- obviously, you're feeling a little cold and a little... needy. It's okay, he doesn't really mind. Danny likesclingy.

"How badly did they get you on your hunt? Are there any other spots other than your ribs that I should be concerned about?" Danny asks before leaning back a little to get a better look at you, only to click his tongue against his teeth at the sight of a faint bruise forming around your neck. He reaches a hand up to touch it, but his fingers tremble like he's having a hard time bringing himself to do so-- like he's scared to touch you and make it worse. Once the pads of his fingers come into contact with the greenish bruise, his brows furrow together as his faces twists in a strange co*cktail mixture of anger and sympathy. "Sweetheart, you didn't tell me you were choked..."

You blink as your mind takes a moment to comprehend his statement. "Yeah-- sorry, it must slipped my mind. I was so angry about the documentary thing, I must've forgot to actually tell you about how the fight went down... but yeah. Yeah, I was choked. I was also nearly impaled with the broken leg of a coffee table too, but that wasn't done intentionally. After Josh had found Thessien, he started breaking furniture and throwing things and-- yeah. I'll be fine, I'm not worried about it."

"That's fine and dandy and all gumdrop, but I'm worried about it." Danny firmly states, before letting out an anxious sigh as he shakes his head back and forth. His shaky hand cradles the back of your neck, allowing you to comfortably tilt your head back and expose more of your bruised flesh to him. His frown deepens on the spot as he realizes the bruise wraps around the entire front of your neck, causing him to quietly mutter under his breath; "My poor baby..."

Your lips twist into a concerned frown. "Is it that bad?"

Danny bobs his head from side to side as he tries to figure out exactly how to word it. "Well-- yes and no. It's not as bad as your ribcage, but we're definitely going to have to cover it up with makeup or have you wear one of your collars. I don't think such a large bruise on your neck would go over well with my coworkers-- I'm 90% sure they'd call the police, and neither of us want that."

Your brows scrunch together in confusion. "I don't think it would be appropriate for me to wear my collar to the office party. But if it'll make you happy, then--"

"I'm not talking about your BDSM collar you kinky little f*ck, I'm talking about yourothercollars." Danny snickers before bringing his other hand up to tenderly cup the side of your face. He smiles down at you, allowing his eyelids to hang low as he openly admires you. "I mean your chokers, specifically one of the ones that you typically wear in place of your usual collar when we're out in public together."

"Ohhh! You mean the chokers I wear to show that I'm your sub without making it inherently obvious to non-kinky folk! The- f*ckin- day collars! Right, I hadn't thought about that." You giggle as your cheeks flush with red-hot embarrassment. "Sorry. I'm still getting used to the whole Dom/Sub dynamic we've got going on! I'm not used to all the rules and... terms, just yet."

"It's alright, my little lemon drop. I won't get mad at you for that, I know you're still getting used to it." Danny fondly coos at you while carefully tucking a few stray locks of wet hair behind your ear. The corners of his eyes crinkle fondly as he smiles down at you. While tenderly pinching your chin between his index finger and his thumb, he slowly forces you to tilt your head back, look up, and stare into his eyes. His sweet smile only widens as the both of you stare deep into each other's eyes. "Just to check; do you remember what we talked about as far as your collars are concerned?"

"Sort of--"

Danny nods his head while wordlessly reaching for your bottle of shampoo. You watch as he never breaks eye contact with you while pouring some of it into the palm of his hand. After capping the bottle and returns it to it's properly place on the shelf, Danny begins to lather up the soap in his hands before sinking his fingers into your hair. He carefully massages your scalp with his fingers, trying to make sure that your pretty locks of hair are clean, right down to the roots. A quiet moan of appreciation thrums through your throat, and Danny smiles at the sound. "Good. Can you tell me what different kinds of collars there are? Specifically yourcollars."

"Do-- do you want me to tell you their purposes, too?" You nervously stutter, feeling a tad bit embarrassed and caught off guard-- of all places, you hadn't expected Danny to slip into his dominant headspace in the god damnshower.Not that you're really complaining-- he's always been... fairly gentle to you as a dominant. It's the primalheadspace that you really have to worry about-- he's completely feral when he's caught up in thatmess.

"If you'd like. I'll consider it to be extra bonus points if you do." He hums whiles double checking to make sure your entire head of hair is covered in shampoo, before reaching a hand up to detach the showerhead from it's socket. Once that's been done, he brings it down and begins to rinse out your hair while using his free hand to comb through your locks and detangle the knots to the best of his ability.

Your eyelashes flutter at the wonderful feeling of his fingers threading through your hair-- it's so wonderful in fact, that you momentarily forget that he asked you a question. "Uh-- sh*t. Okay, well... There are many different types of collars, but you've given me three.The first kind of collar is called aday collar,which is used to symbolize our dom/sub dynamic without making it blatantly obvious. The second is a protection collar, which is essentially used to show other dominants that I am taken and underyourprotection. The third is the play collar, which is to be worn during kinky scenes if eith-either of us desire it."

"Mmmhmmmmm." Danny drawls while slowly bowing his head at you as he hooks the showerhead back up to it's socket. You expect him to reach for his own shampoo, but he surprises you by reaching both of his hands up to cup the sides of your face. Obviously you're caught off guard by the affectionate gesture, and the wide-eyed look on your face alone is enough to make him giggle like a little kid... and while he is amused by the sparkle in your eye, the lesson is not over. He has one more question, and asks it in the form of a barely audible whisper; "And the most important part-- what does your collar symbolize for you and I, specifically?"

"Devotion, not ownership." You reply with a firm nod of your head. "I am your submissive, but you do notownme."

"Good girl. My good girl." He purrs while pausing a moment to press a repetitive string of slow, soft, sweet to your cheek.

A girlish giggle falls from your lips at the ticklish feeling of his plush lips repeatedly pressing up against your skin, and youswear for a moment that you can feel his lips curl into a smile at the sound of your cheerful laughter. Helplessly, you melt into his touch, into him,and quickly find that you are unable to resist drowning in his affection as he swiftly wraps you up in his love. You even angle your head to the side and offer him your neck without truly thinking about it, and he just goes for itlike it had been his plan to do so all along.

(Background song & song inspiration for this make-out scene! Thank you to my Bestie for suggesting it! 🥺)

Your mind has barely any time to register what's going on before Danny's got you right where he wants you to be. As soon as his soft lips come into contact with your heated flesh, your knees start to wobble like they're about to give out. Feeling you quiver up against his body prompts Danny to wrap an arm around your waist and pull you impossibly close, pressing your wet, naked bodies up against each other until there is little to no space between the two of you. As if that weren't enough as is, he braces his other hand up against the slipper tile wall and pins you up against it, violently shuddering with an appreciative groan as your body trembles up against his with anticipation. With a soft snarl-like growl, he attacks your neck and begins dressing it up with wet, sloppy kisses.

"You're so good to me..." You whisper breathlessly, whimpering at the soul-shaking feeling of his hot breath fanning across the expanse of your skin in between hot and heavy smooches. Seeking out some semblance of stability to keep your mind from completely shattering, you loop your arms under Danny's and rest your palms just underneath his shoulder blades, gripping him as tightly as you can. He lets out lustful hisses into the crook of your neck after you dig the tips of your fingernails into his flesh and needily claw at him, leaving behind trails of bright red and pink scratches and crescent moon shaped impressions in your wake.

"Danny--" You begin to beg earnestly, trying to showcase your eagerness to him by pushing your pelvis up against his as much as possible. With each needy roll of your hips, another whine falls from your lips. It visibly affects him; he kisses harder, messier, and repeatedly switches back and forth between a slow and fast pace, like he's fighting or struggling to keep himself under control. Wanting him to just give into his urges and take you, you shamelessly beg him for some more; "--please, I want... need... more. C'mon Danny, baby, gimme a little more. Please? Just a little more..."

Danny stops mid-smooch at your unexpected pleading, and immediately tenses up because he's that caught off guard-- but that last bit actually might have more to do with the way a certain, uh... 'part' of him enthusiastically twitches at the sound of your suggestive whimpering. To make matters worse; you don't stopwhimpering. You continue to let out a steady stream of lewd whimpers and restless whines as you wriggle around and continue to implore him to do something, anythingto relieve the arousal steadily building inside of you. Then your hips push up against himjust right,and he lets out a needy whimper of your name. He said yourname. Not cupcake, gummy bear, or one of the other candy-coated pet names he typically uses for you, but your realname.

It has never sounded so beautiful before...

Danny's cheeks become saturated with a bright pink color, bringing him to drop his head down and hide his face in the crook of your neck. You giggle while reaching a hand up to cradle the back of his head, sinking your fingers into his sopping wet hair and twisting some of his raggedy locks of hair around your fingers. Feeling emboldened by the needy whimper he let out only moments ago, you lightlytug on his hair and immediatelygrinwhen he moans like a dirty whor*. Danny curses appreciatively while struggling to keep his hazy mind from becoming completely clouded with lust. Any control he's ever had over the lower half of his body is long gone thanks to you, but he's not exactly complaining.

"Are- Are you--" He sputters breathlessly in between heavy pants, pausing a moment only to wipe the corner of his mouth and swallow down some saliva before he finally lifting his head to look up at you. Hetriesto ask if you're certain that you really want him to take this further, but you interrupt him mid-mumble by carefully tugging on his hair like a naughty little gremlin that just discovered a new toy. You get to watch the downright erotic effect your kinky hair pulling has on Danny, and damnif it isn't a satisfying sight. The way those amber-colored swirling pools of lust roll into the back of his head before tightly squeezing shut in a way that makes your tummy flutter. A lustful p*rnographic moan falls from those sweet-looking lips of his as he meltson the spot, clearly struggling to keep himself upright. He is forced to cling onto your wet, slippery body for support as his legs wobble underneath him, and curses as a result of his bruised pride.

You snicker at his blatant embarrassment when he tries (and fails) to hide his face in your neck again. After an amused shake of your head, you let out a rather salacious purr while trying to tug on Danny's dirty locks again, but freeze up when his hand suddenly reaches up and clamps down around your wrist. Danny's head snaps up to meet your gaze and you quietly gasp at the sight of his angry, dark eyes staring back at you. His golden irises have been entirely devoured by his pupils, and for a split second, you swear that you're staring into the dark abyss rather than a set of eyes.

"Don't. f*cking. Even." He hisses at you while squeezing his fingers around your wrist. "You're trying my patience,princess."

"Feeling a little agitated?" You retort with a giggle, only to fearfully yelp when Danny angrily slams both of his fists against the tile wall on either side of your head.

"You could say that I'm feeling a little agitated,yes." He spits rather curtly. A soft snarl rumbles deep within his throat as he curls his upper lip, twisting his face into a nasty sneer. He presses his pelvis up against yours, forcing you to rest your entire bodyweight up against the tile wall. Pressed up against the wall and caged in with no apparent way to escape, you are forced to stare Danny down as he moves to rest his forehead against yours. The both of you sit there in relative silence for a few moments, the only other sounds being the steady spray of the showerhead and the music playing in the background. Eventually, however, the silence is broken by your boyfriend's irritated growls; "I'm trying to help you, you know. I'm trying to be nice,to begentle, to be slow, because yourentire f*cking ribcageis littered with bruises. But noooo, you just want to 'go, go, go', don't you?"

You nervously giggle at the intense rage radiating off of Danny. "I- I was just messing around, Si-S-Sir. Honest!"

"Hair pulling? Grinding your c*nt against my co*ck? Whimpering and moaning in my ear like a bitch in heat? Don't play coy with me, princess.You know damn well those are domination tactics, my domination tactics to be f*cking exact." He venomously hisses at you, only to cackle like an absolute deviant when your eyes go all big and bulgy. "What? Surprised that I figured you out so quickly? C'mon hon, I'm not f*cking stupid enough to not realize when my own tricks are being used against me. Give me more credit than that!"

You furrow your brows together before turning your head away from Danny so you can shamefully bow your head, causing a couple stands of wet hair to fall and cling to the side of your face. "I'm sorry, Sir. Will I be punished?"

"Punished?" Danny parrots back at you, allowing his eyes to go wide for a split second before he screws his face up in disbelief. "What in the f-- cupcake, did you not just hear a damn word I just said? Why in the hell would I punish you in your current condition?! You've got bruises all over your ribs, arms, and under your titt*es, it would suck ASS if I bent you over my knee and spanked you 30, 40 times with my hand, much less apaddle.Don't even get me started on overstimulation, either. I already know you wouldn't be able to takethat.Being edged non-stop for an hour or two until you're all tensed up? No thank you. I'm not looking to hurt you like that. You mean too much to me, I wouldn't be able to allow myself to hurt you like that."

"So... does that mean you're not gonna f*ck me, right now? 'Cause I'm tryna get your dick wet. Soaking wet." You emphasize with a slight tilt of your head. Danny stares at you with an overall dumbfounded expression, but you remain unperturbed and just wriggle your hips up against his dick to highlight your point. When he doesn't respond, you tilt your head in the opposite direction and huff impatiently. "Well?"

"You-- I-- Bitch!--" he stutters over his words before hanging his head and violently snickering. He slowly looks back up with a sigh and shakes his head at you in amusem*nt before scoffing under his breath. "You're such a mouthy little f*cking brat! Here I am trying to be sweet, and you're just like 'yeah, yeah, shut up and f*ck my puss*, bitch!'."

The girly, shrilly tone that Danny uses to mock you causes the both of you to break out into deranged giggles, which eventually turns into full on boisterous laughter the longer that the two of you look at each other. Sometime during your shared laughing fit, Danny wraps an arm around your waist and pulls you close before resting his forehead against yours. After the both of you calm down and let out happy sighs of contentment, Danny reaches a hand up to lovingly cradle the side of your face. You smile and lean into his touch while maintaining eye contact with him-- he's so soft, so carefulas he holds you, like he's afraid that you might shatter in his arms if he isn't precautious.

"Ilove you. I know I can be pretty sh*tty at showing it sometimes, but I really do." He murmurs in that wonderfully deep, gravely voice of his, only to quirk an eyebrow tilt his head when you respond with nothing but a smile. "What? What's that look for?"

"I think that's the first time you've said 'I love you' without adding in extra fluff. Usually you're not so straightforward with it, you tend to throw him some extra words to make it seem more 'casual' rather than it being a declaration of love." You chuckle breathlessly.

"Does that bother you?" He quietly whispers while delicately trailing the soft pads of his thumb over the curve of your cheek.

With a soft huff, you gently shake your head. "I don't have to hear you say the words to know you love me. You already say it in everything you do."

Danny stares at you for half a heartbeat before scoffing and rolling his eyes at your cheesy sweet-talk. He mightlookannoyed at first glance, but the way his lips split into a wide grin and show off his pearly white teeth is rather telling-- not only that, but if you look close enough, you can just barely make out the beginnings of a very faint blush on the apples of his cheeks, but whether or not it was caused by your sweet talk or the heat of the shower shall forever remain a mystery.

"Just-- Just shut up and kiss me." He sputters with a slight chuckle before slightly tilting his head to the side. You chuckle breathlessly before mirroring his movements by tilting your head to the opposite side and reaching up to cradle his cheek. You're not sure who moves first-- all you know is that within the next half-millisecond, his lips are on yours and he's devouringyour mouth like a starving man.

Danny groans into your mouth as his eager hands seek out your curves. His greedy fingers tremble ever so slightly as they glide across your skin, feeling up every inch of your body that Danny has access to. Your chest tightens as soon as a slurred version of your name falls from his lips in between the hot and heavy smooches the two of your are exchanging. You can't help but feel slightly overwhelmed, but only in the best way possible-- everything he's doing is exactly what you need; the perfect balance of both push and pull, of fast and slow.The contrast between his slow caresses and his fast-paced passionate kisses set a fire ablaze deep within the pit of your belly. You're not sure why, but every sensation feels... amplified. Every single nerve-ending in your body feels like a live wire, snapping and popping pure, raw electricity at every opportune moment.

You know that Danny must feel it too, because the man in question visibly shudders while bracing one of his hands up against the tile wall. His other hand slides down the side of your body before finding purchase on your ass cheek, and you end up smiling against his lips after he gives it a slight squeeze and begins massaging the globe of flesh within the palm of his hand. When you respond in kind by mewling lewdly at the feeling of his coarse hands on you, he lets out a hungry growl and hooks his hand under your thigh before throwing it over his hip. You curl the leg around his waist for stability, and use your calf muscle to pull his naked pelvis closer to your own.

When Danny gropes your ass especially hard after your pelvises collide, you know that things are about to get a bit... heavy.

"You f*ckin' feelfantastic pushing up against me like that." He groans at the feeling before pressing the curve of his cheek up against your own, so he can moan directly into your ear. He lets go of your thigh and reaches his hand down in between the two of you so he can just barely trail his fingers across the very bottom of your tummy, inadvertently teasing you with his soothing caresses. "Please tell me where you want me to go from here, because I feel like I'm going insane."

"You're going insane? You're not the one getting tickled and teased after already begging to be touched." You quickly return with a slight breathlessness in your voice, reveling in the feeling of his hot breath fanning across the expanse of your skin, only to squirm impatiently after he giggles evilly into your ear while pointedly not touching you the way you want him to. "C'mon Danny, stop playing with my head and start playing with my puss*. I need you."

"Youneed me, huh?" He coos while arching his brow and flashing you a rather devilish smirk. "Well then, in that case..."

Danny rests his forehead against yours with a soft hum, but only because he wants to stare into your eyes and watch the way they light up as he starts to slowly trail his fingers down your belly. You shiver in anticipation as you feel him tickle his way towards your puss*, and try your best not to squirm around-- you know Danny won't hesitate to stop and tickle your flesh some more if you show the slightesthint of impatience, simply because he's got a twisted sense of humor andlovesto watch you struggle and throw a fit whenever you don't get what you want. Thankfully, you don't have to wait long before your patience is rewarded- Danny finallypushes the pads of his middle and ring finger up against your cl*t and begins to rub it in tight little circles. While you sigh in relief, Danny groans at how your wetness coats his fingers and soaks into his skin.

"Such a horny little thing..." He softly coos at you while staring at you through partially lidded eyes, watching your eyes roll into the back of your head while his fingers toy with your cl*t at a quick, steady pace. His lips spread into a wide, toothy grin when you arch your back ever so slightly and let out a soft, little whimper before sinking your teeth into your bottom lip to keep yourself from crying out. Danny's co*ck enthusiastically jumps at the way your body moves and loudly purrs out his approval. "Does that feel good, baby girl? C'mon, tell me cupcake. Tell me how it feels."

"Ye-Yeah..." You whisper under your breath, trying to keep your noisy breathing to a minimum as you start to softly pant. "Yeah, it feelsreally good. Please Si-Sir, just a little faster--"

Danny repetitively clicks his tongue against his teeth while slowly shaking his head back and forth. His denial makes you whine in protest, but only because you're under the impressed that he's denying your request to go faster-- which is why you become delightfully perplexed when he picks up the pace of his fingers a little bit. He chuckles at the way you furrow your eyebrows together as a confused gurgle bubbles up in your throat, only to be promptly overpowered by yet another whimper as he gradually applies more and more pressure to your cl*t with each swirl of his fingers. You squeeze your eyes shut for a moment to try and gather enough willpower to speak, but all that comes out are stutters and unintelligible squeals.

"But-- But you--"

"I wasn't denying your request, cupcake." Danny clarifies to you in a soothing tone as he continues to circle his fingers over your little bud at a fast pace. "I was shaking my head because I don't want you to address me as 'Sir' right now. Make no mistake, I will alwaysbe your 'Sir' until the end of time, but as for right now, I'm just your regular ol' Danny. Does that sound good to you, my sweet girl?"

"My Danny." You lustfully sob while beginning to eagerly rock your hips against his fingers. "Mine... all mine..."

"That's right." He purrs to you, reveling in the way you start to come undone in front of him. "That's right baby girl, I'm all yours."

You curse as his praise makes your c*nt clench, reminding you of how painfully empty your puss* is. You ignore it, however, in favor of continuing to greedily rock your hips against Danny's fingers-- something he apparently approves of and seems to enjoy watching you do, if the way his co*ck twitches is anything to go by.

"Oooh, look at you go..." He coos at you, his smooth voice sounding like the epitome of pure, raw sexual seduction. "Aren't you just precious? Look at you, rocking those sexyf*ckin' hips against my fingers. Such a good girl... That's what you are, right? You're mygood girl, aren't you?"

All sense of intellect that you've ever had in your entire life is seemingly thrown out the window at the sound of Danny's praise and sweet talk. The amount of power that this man has over you is honestly ridiculous, but you can't bring yourself to care-- not when he calls you the sweetest little pet names you've ever heard while speedily circling his fingers over your cl*t, making your legs shake and your eyes roll into the back of your head in ecstasy. Once again, you bite down on your lower lip to muffle yourself, but Danny refuses to allow you to swallow down your moans any longer and becomes determined to break your resolve.

All it takes to completely break you is a slight shift of his hand. Before you know it, Danny is plunging his middle and ring fingers into your puss* in such a way that leaves you breathless. Your entire body curls in on itself as his thick fingers repetitively push deep into your core, seeking out that special little sweet spot that never fails to make you squirm. Deep, mirthful laughter falls from his lips as you visibly come apart in front of him, allowing your jaw to go completely slack while you pant heavily and move your hips in perfect tandem with his sharp, quick movements. A soft whine ripples through your throat at the feeling of his fingers carefully stretching the walls of your tight twat in preparation for f*cking you later, which you are admittedly very much looking forward to at this point-- hell, you're practicallyachingfor it.

You try to help aid his endeavors to loosen you up by slowly swiveling your hips in a circular motion to the best to your ability. While itdoeshelp stretch your walls, you also end up loudly moaning Danny's name, because the movement causes your cl*t to deliciously brush up against the palm of his hand. The friction is utterly delightful and makes the entire lower half of your body violently tremble, so you continue to swivel your hips in hopes of chasing after the feeling. Nothing escapes Danny's watchful eye, however-- the man notices everything, and he definitely notices the way you drawled out his name after your cl*t first rubbed up against his palm. So in an attempt to help you out, he withdraws his fingers from your puss* and drops down to his knees before grabbing your leg and throwing it over his shoulder.

"f*ck--" You hiss while instinctively parting your thighs to accommodate Danny's broad shoulders, allowing your shaky hands to rest atop his head. "--please tell me you're going to do what I think you're about to do."

"That depends, babe--" Danny forcefully sighs out, purposefully fanning his hot breath across your glistening sex. "--what is it exactly you think that I'm about to do?"

With a groan of annoyance, you roll your head back and press it against the tile wall when you realize he's going to force you to beg. That's alright-- you're not above begging to get your puss* licked, it's just slightly embarrassing. Danny is skilled with that tongue of his, however, it is f*ckin' worth the humiliation. "Danny, stop teasing me... c'mon, you know how bad I f*ckin' want it. Just give it to me, baby... I need it, I need it bad. Please, Danny? Nobody has ever done it like you..."

"That's because nobody can do it like me, gummy bear. Don't worry about that, though-- I'm all yours. You'll never need to worry about sharing. I can promise you that." He mutters breathlessly, unfurling his long pink tongue from behind his lips while allowing a few drops of stringy saliva to fall from it, before then heavily dragging his tongue up the length of your puss*. Dark, devious laughter rumbles through his chest as his amber eyes closely watch the way you arch your back and loudly cry out his name, only to let out a long, drawn-out whine when he starts to swirl his tongue around your pretty little pink pearl.

"Mine..." You weakly whimper as your entire core pulses with need. "You're all mine..."

"Ah-huh..." Danny replies with a slight nod of his head as he continues to toy with your little cl*t, staring up at you through lazy, lidded eyes while swirling his tongue over the little pink nub before wrapping his lips around it and giving it a nice, hard suck. You softly cry out as expected, greedily rolling your hips against his mouth to urge him on. He hums approvingly, and reaches a hand up to caress your hipbone so he can feelyour muscles twitch with each little roll. His other hand seeks out your hole, where he reinserts his middle and ring finger and goes back to finger-f*cking you at a hard, steady pace.

"f*ck...f*ck,that feels amazing. Keep going... Yeah, ri-right there..." You sigh contently while gathering up small fistfuls of Danny's hair within your fingers, arching your spine and rolling your body as it is overwhelmed by continuous waves of pleasure. His thick fingers rapidly dip in and out of your creamy center, curling upward with each intrusion to touch your sweet spot just the way you like. Between the rapid flicking of Danny's tongue and his fingers, you're quickly losing control of yourself and tighten your grip on his oily wet locks for some semblance of stability.

"Don't you dare f*ckin pull on my hair." He warns you seriously before harshly nipping at your thigh to make sure you're paying attention.

Your bottom lip is pushed outward to form a pout as you let out a whine of protest. "But it feels so good, and-... and-... is it really that bad? Do you hate it that much?"

Danny scoffs and rolls his eyes in mild annoyance. "No! Of course I don't hate it! It feels f*cking amazing, but that's precisely why it's a f*cking problem! I'm the dominant in our relationship, not you, so don't go yanking on my hair like it's some sort of leash. You're supposed to-- Ohhhh, fuuuuuuuuck..."

All it takes to make Danny compliant to your demands is a slight tug of his dirty hair. The effect it has on him is rather remarkable-- the man is a full blown top in the bedroom, but here he is, down on his knees with his face buried between your legs and your puss* in his mouth. With a pathetic almost puppy-like growl, he goes back to lazily suckling on your cl*t. His lustful, hazy amber eyes stare up at you from behind a curtain of lashes after he whines into your c*nt when you reward his behavior with another gentle tug of his hair. He squeezes his eyes shut and helplessly bucks his hips as a sharp, electrified pulse of pleasure shoots through his pelvis, causing his co*ck to twitch excitedly while he lewdly moans, sending a plethora of tingly vibrations through your body. You co*ckily smirk down at him, defiantly staring into those swirling honey-golden eyes of is. Make no mistake; he might be enjoying himself, but he'sangrythat he's enjoying himself in such a demeaning position.

"You aresogetting a f*cking punishment after your ribs are all healed up. Bet on it princess, I'm gonna f*ckin' overstimulate your f*ckin' puss* for hours, and that's after I spank you with paddle until your ass cheeks are glowing bright f*cking red." He snarls up at you from behind your puss* lips. "I probably shouldn't even let you cum tonight, because you know damn well that you don't deserve it after pulling a stunt like that. ...But luckily for you, I already want you so f*ckin bad that I'm gonna let you get off anyway."

"Oh, yeah? Is that right? What are you gonna do-- oh." You cheekily begin, only to grow several shades paler when Danny shakes your hands off of him before he slowly rises to his feet. When he co*cks an eyebrow at you and stares down at you through narrowed slits, you audibly swallow down your pride. "Oh. Oh, that's what you're gonna do. Well, uh... heeheehee, I'm in trouble."

"Mhm, that's right cupcake. You are definitely in trouble... fortunately for you, however, your punishment wont take place for at least the next week or so. I also plan to be as gentle as possible." Danny chuckles while reaching a hand up to mindlessly wipe away your leftover juices from his mouth. After taking a quick second to lick his fingers clean, he swirls his index finger around in the air in a spinning motion. "Rotate for me, babe."

"No, I don't want to do that. I want to do something else." You retort without truly thinking about it, only to widen your eyes in shock while a sliver of terror runs down down your spine after Danny curves his brow at you and lurches his head back in surprise. Talking back isn't something you usually do unless you're feeling bratty and want him to be rough with you, and considering you've already pushed his limits by pulling on his hair after he explicitly told you notto, you're not exactly in a position to be making any demands. However, because you're the love of his life and he utterly adores you, he decides to humor you.

Danny sighs heavily as he braces his forearms up against the tile wall on either side of your head, thereby caging you in with his body. You swallow thickly as he stares down at you through partially lidded eyes, slowly scanning up and down the entire length of your face like he's trying to commit your current expression to memory. For a while, all you can hear is the steady spray of your showerhead and the rapid thump-thump-thump of your heartbeat in your ears-- that is, until he quietly inhales to speak.

"What exactly do you have in mind?" He rasps, his already gravely voice hanging low in his throat.

"I want to be able to look you in the eye as you take me. I want to feel connected." You quickly spit out, continuing to maintain eye contact with him even after you go beet-red with embarrassment from the neck up. Danny throws both of his eyebrows up in shock after you bluntly spit out your request for him to hear-- obviously out of all of the things you could've possibly said, he hadn't expected that. Usually when it comes to sex, you leave the pace and positioning up to him unless you're too sore from a previous session, though that is typically a very rare occurrence.

"Connected, eh? I can do that." He purrs lasciviously like some sort of horny, overgrown cat before going on to tilt his head and coo adoringly at you. "You really want to feel connected with me, baby?"

"Ye-Yeah..." You pathetically whimper while anxiously squeezing your thighs together. "I do. I'm sorry, I don't mean to be so pathetic--"

"Shh-shh-shh-shh, you're not pathetic to me. Never pathetic, no." Danny hushes you softly while quickly dropping a hand down to caress the side of your face. Those amber colored orbs of his twinkle with sympathy as he stares deep into your eyes, while his thumb carefully glides across the curve of your cheek in an attempt to comfort you. He smiles when you openly lean into his touch with a soft sigh of contentment, and coos adoringly at you before lightly kissing you on the forehead. "Trust me." is all he has left to say on the matter.

Without another word, Danny bends at the waist and hooks his entire arm under one of your knees. With the back of your knee nestled into the crook of his elbow, he stands back up to his full height and takes your leg with him, forcing you to balance yourself on one foot. Your other leg wobbles as you subtly adjust to accommodate the sudden shift in your weight distribution, but make no mistake-- Danny is well aware that this position is risky for you to be in on account of the slippery shower floor, and decides to help protect you from falling by caging you up against the wall once again.

After flattening his palms against the tile wall on either side of your torso and shuffling a little closer, Danny looks down between the both of you and watches as his dick twitch in the open air. Movement, however, catches his eye-- your hand comes slowly creeping into view and steadily reaches towards his co*ck. Once your fingers wrap around his thick, throbbing member, he responds to your touch with a lusty groan and a gentle buck of his hips. At the sound of his gentle, whispered urging, you give his co*ck a few long, languid strokes before positioning the head at your entrance. Once situated, Danny's amber eyes flick up to meet your own colorful orbs. You groan as your lips collide together with his in a passionate kiss, while he steadily pushes his length into you, making your walls painfully stretch to maximum capacity.

It's a fact of life; Danny is big.He's a very well endowed man and if he's not careful, it'sgoing to f*cking hurt you when he puts it in. The two of you learned that the hard way about a week or two into your relationship, unfortunately. See, neither of you had been in a good mood on that particular day, and had been cussing each other out almost all morning over something stupid. At first, Danny refused to admit he was in the wrong, despite it being thoroughly explained to him by you until you were blue in the face. That night, his insomnia kicked acted up horribly, and when 3 AM rolled around, you refused to cuddle him since he acted like a co*ck-sucking loser to you all day. After going into a dramatic, drawn-out spiel about how sorry his stupid ass was, you accepted his apology and propositioned him for some rough make-up sex-- emphasis on the 'rough' part. He took you up on that offer. You lost the ability to walk for the next 2½ days.

Back in the present, Danny has finally bottomed out inside of you and is trying really hard not to shift around too much. The burn of your walls stretching to accommodate his monstrous length is undeniably painful, but not so much so that it's overwhelming or makes you feel like you need to tap out. You're holding up just fine, with your arms tightly wrapped around your beloved beau's neck and shoulders-- Danny, on the other hand, looks like he's ready to pop. He tries to hide it from you by dropping his head down to watch you fidget around on his co*ck, but you're far more observant than he gives you credit for.

"You can start moving now. Just remember to go easy on me." You quietly murmur before reaching a hand up to cradle the back of his head.

"Yeah, yeah, of course." He quietly mutters under his breath, his voice almost completely drowned out by the sound of the water pouring from the showerhead. You and Danny nuzzle each other lovingly before looking down between yourselves to watch as he slowly drags his co*ck out of your tight c*nt. After he has pulled out until just the head of his co*ck rests inside you, he subtly shifts his weight from foot to foot and swallows thickly before slowly driving his dick back into your wet warmth. He bottoms out within you once more, and the feeling of his co*ck pulsing up against your g-spot makes you mewl and curl your body inward.

"f*ck." You quietly hiss out through bared teeth as he sets a slow, steady pace. "God damn it, that feels amazing--"

"Took the words right out of my mouth." Danny groans heatedly while rolling his eyes around in his skull out of absolute bliss. Eventually he perks his head back up to meet your gaze and arches an inquisitive eyebrow, his breath leaving him in short, soft bursts. "Are you alright, cupcake? Do I need to go slower than what I'm currently at?"

"No, I'm okay. I'm just really full, and I can feel everything." You whine out before gently rolling your hips, causing the both of you to weakly cry out. Your nails lightly dig into Danny's flesh as you claw at him for stability, but he doesn't seem to be bothered the crescent moon-shaped indents or the bright red streaks you leave all across his skin. If anything, he just seems to revel in them, moaning quietly as you scratch away at him. Then he breathlessly murmurs your name under his breath like it's some sort of lost, sacred prayer. While moving to rest his forehead against yours, his golden-honey colored eyes stare back at you with such a remarkable level of intensity that you cannot help but melt against him.

Danny violently shudders as his co*ck repeatedly drives in and out of your wet c*nt, his hips slowly rocking back and forth at a steady pace that somehow manages to drive him further insane than he already is. He wants to gosomuch faster, but you're so damn tight, and he really doesn't want to hurt you. Thankfully, he doesn't seem to have to worry about that very much-- you seem to be enjoying yourself quite a lot, despite having very little, uh... 'wiggle room' to work with. The burn of your walls stretching must finally be starting to dull now and give way to pleasure, if your shrilly moans and heavy pants are anything to go by.

"I love you." Danny admits in a moment of weakness as he continues to f*ck you, gradually speeding up his pace little by little until your tit* are justbarelybouncing. You whimper the words back at him, softly returning his affections through slurred words and desperate moans. After a particularly hard thrust, Danny groans while rolling his eyes into the back of his head, only to pop them right back open so he can stare into your own eyes-- but there's a problem. You're not looking at him. Instead of looking back at him, you're completely caught up in the moment. You've got your eyes squeezed shut and are whining as you try to bounce up and down on his co*ck with wild abandon like it's some sort of joy ride. Don't get him wrong, your warm, wet, velvety walls wrapped around his dick feels amazing. He likes having you wrapped around his co*ck, but he wants to be sure that your complete focus is on him. So with a grunt and a soft whisper, he calls for your attention in that deep, rumbly voice of his that you love ohh so much; "Baby girl, look at me. Please, I want you to look at me."

Your eyes snap wide open and lift to meet his gaze. The sight of your dark pupils visibly dilating and swallowing up your colorful irises makes Danny wickedly grin. There's no doubt about it, you're yearningfor him now. It's undeniable; your chest is rapidly heaving with each desperate breath, your puss* is squelching with each harsh drive of his co*ck, and a cacophony of moans, whimpers, and harsh curses fall from your lips and echo within the confines of your bathroom.

"There's my girl... My sweet girl..." Danny coos as he continues to f*ck you up against the wall, moving his hips in short, little fast-paced bursts. You sink your teeth into your bottom lip and let out yet another lusty little whimper at his praise. Eager to please and eager to get off, you try to help encourage Danny to go harder by rolling and grinding your hips after he bottoms out inside you with each thrust. He takes the bait and starts to f*ck you a little harder, groaning before urgently locking lips with you in a fiery, passionate kiss. Overwhelmed by the feeling of his lips pressed up against your own, your hands gather up small fistfuls of his hair-- and this time, amazingly, Danny doesn't scold you for it.

You get lost in the moment, happily caught up in locking and re-locking lips with Danny. Then when you least expect it, the white-hot coil of arousal lurking deep inside your belly suddenly clench unbearably tight, to the point where your entire spine snaps up perfectly straight. With a harsh gasp and a moan, you tear your lips away from Danny's mouth, leaving the poor man sitting there all confused with his lips still puckered. Amazingly, his hips do not falter despite his visible confusion, though you quickly offer him an explanation;

"Close, close, close,sooooclose!" You whine, tightening your fingers around his dirty locks and lightly tugging on them as you lose yourself to the rapid thrusting of his hips. Danny, on the other hand, hisses at the feeling of his hair being tugged and promptly whines shortly there after when your hands justrefuseto let go...or stop pulling.

"Baby please, let go of my hair." He pleads, only to let out a sharp, desperate whine when you do it yet again. "No! Stop pulling on it! You're gonna make me--"

Without so much as a warning, Danny's co*ck suddenlyexplodeswithin you. With an angry roar, he ravenously f*cks you through his org*sm with very little regard for your comfort-- not that you mind very much in the moment. As rope after rope of hot cum shoots deep inside you, you're too caught up in the wild bucking of his hips to realize that Danny has already came, until the rapid thrusting of his hips starts to gradually slow to a complete stop. Only when you feel some of his seed dribble down the inner part of your thigh do you actually realize that Danny accidentally came waysooner than expected. The realization washes over you like a cold bucket of water being dumped over your head, shocking you enough to the point where your libido just suddenlydrops.

Meanwhile, Danny hides his face in the crook of your neck, growling and whining like a bitch in heat as his hypersensitive co*ck twitches until it has completely unloaded everything it has to offer. As he starts to come down from his high, he looks up to meet your gaze, hoping to find you just as satisfied as he is. Upon finding that you're already staring back at him all wide-eyed and slack-jawed, he looks down at his co*ck and finds it completely covered in hiscum, andnotyours.

Oops.

The silence between the two of you is just deafening.If it weren't for the running shower and your heavy breathing, you and Danny could probably hear a pen dropping from inside the office just down the hall, you're that quiet. Unable to move, the two of you just stare at each other, chests heaving as water dribbles down your naked bodies, dipping in and around your natural contours. Danny's face is steadily growing redder by the second as he stammers and tries to come up with some explanation, but he can't get himself to actually spit out anything that's truly worth saying or doesn't come off as accusatory. So, he just stands there all slack-jawed like an idiot, caging you up against the wall as his mind scrambles for some sort of reasonable defense.

You're the first to swallow your pride and try to break the awkward silence. "Danny, did you just--?"

Danny doesn't even let you finish your sentence. Red in the face and thoroughly embarrassed from this entire ordeal, he swiftly pulls his length out of you with a soft snarl. After carefully lowering the leg that had been thrown over his arm back to the floor, he tears across the shower and pointedly tries to run away from you. But there's an issue with his plan of escape-- by the time he reaches the other end of the shower, he comes to the realization that he has no where to go. If he hops out of the shower, he's still dirty (and now very sticky) from running around today. His boss would probably question why his hair looks greasy and why he smells of sex and desperation, no matterhowmuch he drowns himself in cologne. However, if he stays here in the shower with you, you would undoubtedly try to talk to him about this.But Danny isn't the kind of man to acknowledge his own mistakes.So what does he do instead of facing you like a rational adult?

He angrily glares at the wall, like a child.

It takes you a minute, but you figure out what's going on. A half hearted smile curls onto your face as you cross your arms over your naked chest and wordlessly step out from underneath the showerhead's spray. Your wet locks cling to your face as you tilt your head to the side, causing you to push them out of your face before you try and call out to your very uncomfortable boyfriend.

"Danny?" You sweetly coo at him while crossing your arms over your chest again. "Can you look at me?"

Your boyfriend refuses to respond, nor does he look at you. Honestly, you're not surprised-- Danny has never been truly open to talking to you about his feelings. It's taken him this long just to start saying that he loves you without hiding it behind layers and layers of dark and sexual humor, so you don't expect him to be able to talk to you about feeling embarrassed for awhile, if ever. That doesn't mean you're not going to try, though.

You take a couple steps closer. "Danny? C'mon baby, I just want you to look at me. Please?"

Danny can pretend to be apathetic and indifferent to your sweet little murmurs as much as he wants, but you know better. Matter of fact, the man himself has told you that you know him better than anyone else in the world, dead or alive. He might be refusing to look at you, but you know he's listening. It's not like he's hiding it very well-- he twitches every time you talk to him, his breathing quietly hitches whenever you say his name. He can hear you, he's just pretending that he can'tbecause he feels... well, humiliated. Of course he can't face you, you just pulled on his hair and made him cum like he was your submissive or something-- wait. Submissive... now that gives you an idea.

Danny is all about ego. If you can stoke the embers of the dying fire, perhaps he'd be a bit more... compliant, or willing to work with you.

A quick glance to your left brings a shelf into your line of sight. Situated on that shelf is a line of very expensive hair products-- gifts that you had haphazardly bought for Danny shortly after he had moved in, since the man has bougie taste but refuses to admit it. He has yet to use them since he wants to finish his old shampoo and conditioner first, but you suppose now would be aperfectopportunity to spoil the grump for a little while. So you reach up and pluck the shampoo off the shelf, before pouring a small amount into the palms of your hand. After putting the bottle back up onto the ledge, you work it into a frothy lather and begin making your way over to Danny, where he stands perfectly still like some sort of unmovable mountain of a man. As you approach him from behind, you softly smile at the back of his head before tilting your own head to the side. In the sweetest voice you can manage, you call out to him using a... different sort of name;

"...Sir?"

The sound of you using his preferred honorific prompts him to justbarelypeek at you from over his shoulder. At first glance, his amber orbs sparkle with rage-- he wants to blame thisentiremess onto you, and that would be quite fair to do, considering you're the one that pulled on his hair after he begged you to stop. However, his eyes soften a great deal when you offer him your soapy hands with a smile.

"I can wash your hair for you if you'd like, Sir." You explain with a cheerful wiggle of your wet fingers. "I just need you to bend down for me. Would you, kindly?"

Danny arches an eyebrow at you and your polite mannerisms, but decides to humor you and turns around to face you. He bends at the waist slightly, wordlessly offering you his head full of dirty, wet, oily hair. You immediately get to work by sinking your soapy fingers into the mass of wet hair, working the shampoo through his hair from root to tip. Danny visibly falters underneath your touch-- this is the first time you've done something for him like this, and he's not quite sure how to feel about it. On one hand, he wants to get mad and blame you for making him, uh... 'lose control', but on the other hand however, you seem to be doing exactly what he hoped you would-- ignoring the elephant in the room and trying to smooth things over. That's his hypothesis, at least.

"Your hair is really healthy. I'm actually kind of jealous of how pretty your hair is." You comment, unknowingly proving his theory.

"...Thanks." He mutters quietly, actively leaning into your touch.

You can't help but smile and nod your head while softly humming in acknowledgment. You're not stupid, you know he isn't just thanking you for giving him some silly little compliment. If he was, he wouldn't just say 'thank you' and move on, he'd likely be making fun of you for it or boasting that you have every right to be jealous of his glorious mane.Maybe other people would write his expression of gratitude off as a simply 'thank you', but you know he'sactuallythanking for being okay with what just went down between the two of youandfor not making a huge fuss about it.

"Anytime, Sir." You coo back as you finish scrubbing down his scalp. When you pull your hands away, Danny stands back up to his full height and makes his way over to the showerhead. He dunks his head underneath the water and begins to rinse everything out, only to pause and look over his shoulder when he hears you pop open another bottle. When he finds you pouring his body soap onto his designated loofah, he can't help but break out into a wide, toothy grin.

"You're going to wash me now? What are you trying to achieve by spoiling me like this, cupcake?" He huffs while lightly shrugging his shoulders.

"I don't know. Maybe I'll get an org*sm." You tease right back, prompting Danny to forcefully snort and break out into demented little giggles. You shriek when he reaches over and smacks you right across the bottom, making you squeal out; "I'm sorry! Just a joke, just a joke! Not being serious! Aiieee, that hurts!"

"That's just one helluva low blow, even for your short little ass. I'll let your smartass comment slide, though, just this once." He quietly snickers while shaking his head back and forth in disbelief before trying to go back to rinsing his hair out. You giggle to yourself as you walk over to him and begin lathering him up. The feeling of you sudsing him up makes him pause and twist his head around to look at you with a soft, appreciative expression. "Cupcake..."

"Shhh, let me do this." You giggle with a dismissive wave of your hand, refusing to even give him the chance to try and talk you out of cleaning him up. "I'm already in my service headspace, let me take care of this for you. You deserve it-- to be taken care of. You take care of me... I take care of you. That's what people in a relationship do."

"S'embarrassing. I don't like to be babied like this. Feels f*ckin' weird." He mumbles in protest, despite giving in and allowing you to scrub him down anyway. He watches you closely as you scour his entire body, scrubbing off every speck of dirt and grime from the long day. His eyes narrow and he twists his upper lip into a slight sneer-- he's not sure how to feel about this, all he knows is that he feelswildlyuncomfortable. So he complains.Again."Can you stop now? I'm not a baby, you know. I can wash my own ass."

"It's called 'aftercare', Sir." You sass right back at him, causing him to let out a semi-amused breath.

"Aftercare? That's my job... I'm not the sub." He murmurs, shifting his weight from foot to foot to display his discomfort.

"Danny. Beloved. My darling. With all due respect, would you kindly shut the f*ck up and let me finish washing you? I'm almost done." You sigh out. Danny growls at you for being so...snappy,but allows you to do as you please. He squeals when you shamelessly shove the loofah in between his ass cheeks, however, and opens his mouth to complain again, but silences himself when you cut a hard glare in his direction. He just dramatically rolls his eyes and sighs while crossing his arms over his chest.

"Fine, alright, damn-- AAAIIEEE, watch the asshole, asshole!" He hisses at you before yanking himself away from you, making sure to snatch the loofah away from you for good measure. When you start to giggle, he just shakes his head in disbelief and begins rinsing himself off, angrily muttering under his breath the whole time. "f*ckin' bitch, poking my asshole like it's some sort of magical button. If you're gonna f*ck my ass, use LUBE, not SOAP, ya f*ckin' heathen!"

"Duly noted." You snicker to yourself before shaking out your wet hair, flinging droplets of water all over the place. "Alright. I think I'm about done. You gonna finish up in here? Shave and all that?"

"Yeah, yeah." He grumbles with wave of his hand. "Go do your thing, dry off, lotion up, put on your makeup, and all that sh*t. I've got to shave my stubble and rinse soap out of my ass, thankyouverymuch."

"You're welcome." You reply while turning to climb out of the shower, only to pivot on the spot and rush back over to him while crying out a single word; "Kiss!"

Danny entire body lurches as he violently snorts before bending down to press a gentle kiss to your lip. You hum amorously as his lips glide over yours, but squeal when he playfully nips at your lower lip and tugs on it a little. You try to pull away but his hand catches you by the jaw and holds you steady as he nibbles along your lip for a few more seconds. Once your breath has been thoroughly stolen from your lungs and you are left yearning, he just barelypulls his lips away from yours and murmurs; "...Don't forget to feed Jinx."

You scoff and drop your head down in disappointment while he giggles victoriously. "I thought you were going to say something sexy... f*cker."

"Later." He urges before planting on final peck on your mouth. "Go get ready, babe. We're going to be late if we puss*foot around any longer, so try to hustle if you can."

You huff and lightly shake your head. "I will try, but there's a lot I need to do. Also, I need to know what kind of dress code I need to adhere to. Because if I walk in there looking like I'm Queen Bougie with my tit* out, I'm going to look a little out of place if everyone else is dressed like they're going to church. The last thing I want to do is attract attention and possibly break your cover. What should I expect?"

Danny chuckles to himself and lightly shakes his head back and forth before carefully grasping your hand and bringing it up to his lips. He places a delicate kiss onto your knuckles and softly hums under his breath before lightly running the soft pad of his thumb across your skin. "You don't have to worry about following a dress code, much less blowing my cover in front of my coworkers, hot cakes. The boss said the dress code is business casual, but I'm pretty sure everyone is going to be dressed as formally as they possibly can without making it seem like they're expecting to be swept away to a royal ball. If you want to walk in dripping in pearls and diamonds, go right ahead."

"You're too good to me, baby..." You giggle before lightly kissing Danny on the nose and clapping your hands together. "Alright! One bougie wife to a certain Mr. Jed Olsen, coming right up!"

Danny had underestimated the time it would take for you to get ready.

You weren't so late that you have to be super concerned about it or fret over it, but you were definitely late enough to make you rush around your and Danny's shared bedroom at a brisk pace. There was so much to do at short notice-- you had to do your makeup, you had to do your hair, and pin it up, and put a sh*tload of products in it to make sure that itdidn'tmove so much as an inch during the party. Then you had to exfoliate your legs, and then you had to shave, and then you had to butter them up with lotion, just so your legs looked presentable enough in the flashy dress you planned to wear.

That dress-- That sexy midnight-blue backless dress currently splayed out across the bed was your lifesaver, your saving grace. At the moment, Danny is pacing around downstairs while hollering at you to hustle and finish getting ready, but you were certainthat as soon as he saw you in that dress, he'd be too busy picking his jaw up off the floor to yell at you or scold you for taking so long. You tried to tell him that these things take time, but he didn't understand. Men-- they have it so easy. A little cologne, a little hair gel, and they're good to go. Women? There is an entireritualyou have to go through in order to become picture perfect. But as impatient as Danny might be, he thankfully won't have to wait long to see you all dressed up.

You've just finished adjusting your high heel straps for the quadrillionth time tonight, and are finally ready to pull on your dress. As you're pulling the dress over your head, you can hear Danny call out to you. You sigh in mild annoyance as you pull the dress on and mindlessly smooth it down with the palm of your hands before fiddling with the delicate silver-colored day collar around your neck-- Danny's voice is muffled due to being all the way downstairs and across the house, so you can't really make out the words he's saying. So after doing a quick about-face, you stomp your way out of the bedroom and make your way down the stairs, idly fiddling with the diamond ring you've chosen to act as your wedding ring for the night. As you come clicking your way down the steps, you spot Danny standing at the bottom of the stairs, spinning his car keys around his finger while watching your shadowy form make your way down the darkened steps.

"There are you. I was wondering when you'd-- arrive...holy sh*t." Danny forcefully exhales as he catches his swinging keys in the palm of his hand, before taking a moment to look you up and down. He throws his eyes brows up and huffs. "Let me repeat that, ho-ho-holy sh*t!Cupcake, you lookdamngood in that dress! You know what? I'm not even mad anymore. I- Damn, you look good... your thin little silver collar hides your neck bruises perfectly, too. Are you ready to go? I've fed JinxandI've loaded her up on CBD oil and catnip. She's currently conked out on the kitchen island and should be good for the next 2-3 hours, though I doubtwe'll be staying that long."

You can't help but quietly laugh at Danny's not-so-subtle eagerness to show you off. "Yeah big boy, I'm ready. I think the real question is; are you?"

"Yeah, I'm ready. I've been ready." He deadpans with a huff while placing both of his hands on your hips, only to lean back a little so he can look you up and down again. He smiles softly, genuinely-- one of those rare kinds of smiles that only youever get to see. His hands slowly rub your sides as he appreciatively checks you out once more, taking his sweet, sweet time when looking you up and down. His teeth sink into his bottom lip as a soft growl bubbles up in his throat. "I-- Just-- Damn, you look fantastic. Are you trying to seduce me, Madame? It's not nice to tease, you know."

"Yes, yes, I believe someone told me that once. I don't know, I wasn't really listen. I was too busy trying to make sure their every thought was consumed by my image." You say while sighing dramatically, before breaking out into a fit of giggles when Danny sinks his fingers into your sides and begins to tickle the hell out of you. You try to escape of course, but he's much too quick. Somehow in the midst of all the chaos, he ends up pulling you right up against his body and wraps his arms around you while steadily rocking you from side to side. Well, at least he's not tickling you anymore.

"If that was your goal, I'd say you already accomplished it. Rrrrr, I don't think I'd be able to get you out of my head, even if my damn life depended on it." He playfully growls at you before nipping at your throat. Then he drops his head down to rest against your shoulder as a soft sigh rumbles through his chest, causing his shoulders to subtly heave as he exhales. You try not to pleasantly hum at the feeling of his warm breath spreading across your skin like a blanket, as Danny would undoubtedly try take advantage of the situation if you showed even the slightestsliver of the desire towards him-- anything to give him somesort of opening or reason to avoid being around his boss and coworkers any longer than he has to be.

"We're going to be late, Mr. Olsen." You murmur as he calmly sways you back and forth in his arms. "Late, late, late."

"I'm well aware of that... Mrs.Olsen. Maybe one day down the line, I'll eventually replace that fake wedding ring on your finger with a real one. Hmm?" He purrs back at you, chuckling when your breathing audibly hitches in response. He hums while holding you tighter, and presses his lips up against your earlobe. "C'mon. Let's get going. If I'm going to be forced to go to this stupid office party, then I fully intend to show you off to my coworkers the entire time."

Without another word, Danny quickly leads you out of the house, gleefully giggling like a little kid all the way out the door. You can't help but join in on his childish laughter as you step out onto the front porch, smiling brightly before pausing a moment to take a inhale a lungful of damp, humid night air. As he works on locking the door, you notice that it's definitely sticky out tonight, and the way that the Florida heat makes your dress cling to you even more than it already does is extremelyuncomfortable. At least the stars look nice tonight. The smog isn't nearly as bad here in Roseville as it is in the more populatedcities of Florida, so you can actually sit out on your porch and watch the stars on most nights. Matter of fact, that's how you used to spend your nights with a certain Mr. "Jed Olsen" before you found out who he really was.

"Do you remember how you used to sit on my porch with me almost every night, before we got together?" You ask Danny with a nostalgic sigh.

Danny very nearly drops the housekey onto the porch out of shock at the sound of your voice-- he had been so focused on quietly locking the door so that Jinx's nap wasn't disturbed, and hadn't expected your voice to just suddenly break through the night chorus of crickets and frogs, much less ask such a mind-boggling question. He looks over his shoulder and stares at the back of your head for several seconds as his brain processes, unsure of how to properly respond to such a silly question. Did he remember? Seriously, woman?

Of course he remembers. Those late nights he spent talking to you on your dinky little porch were some of the best memories he's ever had, and that's saying something when you take into consideration that his previous 'happiest memories' involved slicing someone's body up. It's kind of funny, now that he thinks about it-- before you came into his life, Danny didn't think about anyone but himself. There was Jinx of course, but as far as real-live people went, he didn't give a f*ck. The whole word could have rotted and gone to hell, and he'd have justlaughed. But now that you're here? You've become his everything.

He cherishes those late nights he spent with you more than you'll ever understand, and he'll never tell you just how much they mean to him.

After double checking to make sure the front door is locked, Danny silently slips his keys into his pocket and slowly makes his way over towards you. He comes up behind you, tightly wrapping his arms around your waist so he can hold you close, right up against his chest. You close your eyes with a smile and hum peacefully when one of his hands moves to rest on your belly, his warm fingers splaying out wide before he starts to mindlessly rub it in an oddly affectionate manner. He buries his nose into your hair and deeply inhales the sweet scent of your shampoo before forcefully releasing his body's tension in the form of a heavy sigh.

"Yeah. Yeah, I remember." is all he can bring himself to say, but you feel the weight of his words more than he knows.

"Those are some of my favorite memories." You admit out loud, hoping he'll catch the hint. Judging by the way his arms just tightened around you, you'd say he heard it loud and clear. He chuckles softly and buries his face into your hair again, this time pressing a kiss directly to your scalp.

"...Let's get going." He quietly mumbles, before taking you by the hand and leading you towards his shiny, sleek black car.

As the two of you walk over to the vehicle, Danny reaches deep into the pocket of his dress pants and blindly clicks a button on the car remote attached to his keys. The car audibly unlocks, and the loud click of the lock mechanism rings through the night air and echoes down the empty street. After a lifetime of training yourself to avoid make loud noises to help you evade police, you can't help but quietly tense up. But Danny, the protective wolf of a man, almost seemingly senses your distress and tightly wraps an arm around your waist to comfort you before guiding you towards the passenger side of the car. He even holds the door for you. What a gentleman!

Once you've climbed into the car and have gotten yourself all buckled in and comfortably situated, Danny runs around the front of the car and practically dives into the driver's seat. As soon as he inserts the key into the ignition and twists it, the radio switches on and loud music comes blaring through the speakers. You visibly startle, while Danny just curses and hurries to lower the volume.

"sh*t-- too loud. Holy f*ck, way too loud." He hisses with a shake of his head as he finallystarts to pull out of the driveway. As he starts to zip his way down the street, you let out a heavy sigh and lean back in your seat, prompting Danny to whip his head around and look at you. Out of the corner of your eye, you can spot the way his body subtly tenses up, hands tightening his grip on the steering wheel as he leans up in his seat. "Cupcake, are you okay?"

"I'm alright, I'm just breathing. You should try it some time." You reply, only to look over and chuckle at Danny's annoyed, disbelieving expression. He impatiently snaps his fingers and snarls at you, causing you to snort in amusem*nt. "Hah! Look at you, trying to order me around. How cute.Seriously though hon, it's not a big deal. I'm just grumpy because I really didn't feel like go out tonight. We've already been out a lot this past week, and I was hoping to curl up on the couch with you and Jinx. Maybe stay up late, watch a scary movie, or a serial killer documentary. Today's hunt was really annoying, and I can't say I'm exactly all that excited to go schmooze with your boss over a cup of coffee and some cruddy office food."

Danny pointedly huffs and exaggeratedly rolls his eyes. "You talk as if I want to go to this f*cking party in the first place. Trust me princess, I'dmuchrather would be curled up on the couch with you, but my boss requires us to attend the parties. I could lose my job if I don't. I promise we won't be there any longer than an hour, maybe an hour and a half at most. Also, remember to call me 'Jed' tonight, hon. Please."

"I know that, I'm not stupid!" You irritably hiss while sneering in his direction.

"I never said you were! Stop being a f*ckin' brat and listen to me!" He hisses right back while sparing an angry glance in your direction, only to pause and look back at the road with a heavy sigh. "...Look, I'm sorry. I'm a little apprehensive about you coming to the office with me and meeting all my coworkers, particularlythe boss and his freaky ass secretary."

That makes you angrily frown. "Do you not want me there? Am I a liability? Or is it something else?"

"I never said that! Never said that! Don't put words in my mouth to try and get me into trouble!" Danny quickly spits out, reaching over to wriggle his index finger at you as a warning. "I do want you there, I just don't want you to go on a killing spree while we're there. If you lose control of your anger, I'll lose a very valuable position that protects the both of us. Working at the Roseville Gazette is the perfect opportunity to cover both of our asses and stay involved on all the gossip and keep a close eye on the movement of the police. If I lose my job, we're essentially blind mice walking into a mouse trap. You can't kill anyone there tonight, princess. I mean it."

"Ye of little faith." You snort with a roll of your eyes, before turning your head to stare out of the passenger window. Your arms come up to comfortably cross over your bust as you watch the streetlamps fly by the window faster than your brain can comprehend. "I'm sure I'll be able to control my homicidal urges just fine... and my temper isn't that bad! You make it sound as if I'm planning on stabbing everyone as soon as we walk through the door!"

Danny chuckles darkly while shaking his head, keeping his dark eyes completely focused on the road. "Cupcake, I don't think you understand just how delicate this situation truly is. My boss and coworkers test mypatience sometimes, and for the love of god, don't take this the wrong way but you get really agitated easily, especially when strangers get up in your personal space. Keep in mind that I've never spoken about having a wife or even hinted to having one until you and I started to officiallydate. You've got to understand that when we walk in, everyone is going to be asking questions about you, about us, and about our life together. I know that's going to annoy you, because I know you and how you work. I'm looking out for you, believe it or not."

The soft, understanding tone in his voice makes you twist your neck around to look back at him, just as he pulls up behind a car at a crowded intersection. The red light emanating from the car's bumper illuminates his face, making his eyes sparkle as he stares at you with an adoring expression on his face. You sigh and drop your hands down to rest in your lap. As you mindlessly pick at your fingernails, you stare at them while mumbling. "I don't think like that. I'm sorry. You're-- I--"

"I'm a lot nicer than you think I am, cupcake. Give me credit where I deserve it; I'm a narcissistic asshole, but I'm a narcissistic asshole that cares about you." He deeply chuckles before slowly leaning over and lightly pecking you on the cheek. At the same time, his hand comes over to rest on your upper thigh, his thick fingers gently squeezing the flesh beneath his palm. As he pulls away, you quietly giggle and rest your own hand on top of his before intertwining your fingers together. When you look down, you can't help but smile at the sight of your fake wedding rings glinting in the dim lighting of the surrounding street lights and cars.

"Thanks, sweetheart. You know-- you can be quite the dickhe*d sometimes, but at least you're my dickhe*d." You snicker before lightly squeezing his hand in your fingers, breaking out into the widest smile when he squeezes back.

"Yes, and you can be quite a bitch, but you'remybitch." He coos adoringly before bringing your hand up towards his mouth, where his lips pucker before peppering your knuckles with slow, soft kisses. He turns his attention back to the road once traffic starts tofinallymove again, and it isn't long before the two of you start zipping down the boulevard, the tall Roseville Gazette office building looming in the distance. It reminds you of the task at hand-- get through the party, and don't blow your and Danny's cover.

"So is there anything I should know about your coworkers, Mr. Jed Olsen? Anything I should be wary about?" You ask while shifting your eyes away from the tall building and over to Danny, who keeps his eyes focused on the road as he tries to come up with an answer, but squeezes your hand to let you know he heard you.

Eventually he lets out a heavy sigh and bobs his head. "Well Mrs. Dahlia Olsen, yes. Yes, there are a few things you should be wary about. The first thing that comes to mind is not my boss, but his secretary, Miranda Alberts. See, she has an infatuation with me and refuses to believe that I'm married ever since I brought it up a month ago. I've worn a fake wedding ring while at work since day one, simply to help coworkers into getting the wrong idea, but Ms. Alberts refuses to let it go since I've never actually talked about you until recently. She's definitely going to be very passive aggressive with you when she meets you, I can guarantee. She'll also likely try to flirt with me or make it seem like we have a much more 'friendly' relationship that we actually do, but I can assure you, I loatheher entirely. Trust me, I'd kill her if I wasn't certain that the police would finger me as a suspect."

"Oh, I know you despise her. I rememberallof the conversations we've had about her harassing you at work. Besides, I'm never been worried about her trying to wriggle her way in between us baby, I've watched the two of you interact while I was stalking you. You know-- before we started dating. Remember?" You reply with a soft smile and a curve of your brow. "I saw all of the little stunts she likes to try to pull with you while you're worked. Don't worry, Danny; I know you're loyal."

Danny's eyebrows furrow together as he tries to swallow down a burp while pulling into the Roseville Gazette Parking Lot-- his lunch from earlier today must not be sitting in his stomach correctly. After trying to shake off the uncomfortable feeling, he leans up in his seat and begins to scan the parking lot for a parking space, lightly drumming his thumbs in a random rhythm against the steering wheel as he slowly drives around the parking lot. "Yeah, I vaguely remember you mentioning it to me once or twice, now that I think about it. My bad. Keep an eye out for a parking space, would you honey?"

"There's one right over there towards the back of the parking lot, but you might wanna hustle. There's another car that looks interested in it." You reply with a nod of your head, causing Danny to perk up and follow your line of sight. As soon as he sees the spot, he makes a dash for it and quickly pulls in before anyone else can steal it.

Danny snickers while the other driver honks their horn as they whizz past the both of you. After putting the car in park, he twists his head around to look at you. "Thank you, sweetheart! Now if you could do me a favor and reach into the console on your side and take out the manila folder in it, I'd be verygrateful."

"Sure thing, sugar." You hum before flipping open the console and reaching inside, only to pull your hand back and snort at theplethoraof pocket knives that clatter around as a result of the console being shifted around and opened. You start to cackle hysterically, and whip your head around to stare at Danny with wide-eyes while motioning to the console. "Jesus H. Christ, Danny! What the f*ck!? How many knives do you have?! You know what, I'm just gonna steal one just incase--"

"Ay-ay-ay! No! Don't touch!" Danny snaps before slapping your hands away from the console, only to point at you when you stick your bottom lip out and begin to pout in protest, staring at him all big and doe-eyed like a little kid that just got yelled at for the first time in their life. When you curl your arms up against your chest and continue to pout, Danny wags his finger at you and continues to scold you. "No, don't pout at me like that, either! I told you that you can't kill while we're here! You don't need a knife tonight, so stop it!"

"Awww, but babyyy..." You playfully whine as you slowly unbuckle your seatbelt, prompting Danny to widen his eyes and begin to feverishly shake his head back and forth as fast as he can. You just giggle while slowly pulling yourself up onto all fours, climbing across the center console before then moving to comfortably straddle Danny's lap.

"No, no, no, no, no, no. Get off, get off, get off, get off, get off." He frantically whispers while nervously flailing his hands around, only to angrily bare his teeth at you when you fully settle your weight right against his crotch. "God damn it woman, you're f*ckin' crazy! Get off of me before someone sees you!"

"Why? I'm not doing anything wrong. I'm just a little ol' lustful housewife who wants a piece of her hubby before we go to a party. That's not illegal, is it Mr. Olsen?" You giggle as you rest your hands on Danny's shoulders, giving them a slight squeeze while dipping your head down to press your lips up against his neck. He irritably growls as he feels you begin to pepper little kisses all across his skin, but then loudly whimpers when you teasingly drag your warm, wet tongue across his neckline.

Danny hesitantly places his hands on your ass with a muffled, restrained groan. His thick fingers grip the fleshy globes for dear life as you lead a trail of hot, wet, heavy kisses all up and down his neck, leaving him utterly breathless. You don't typically try to top him, so for you to go all f*ckin' dommy-mommy on him like you just did was completely unexpected on his part. He's not sure if he likes the way it makes him feel, either-- his heart is pounding in his chest, and he feels like he's been running for hours. His hands, which are usually so careful and precise with their movement, can't seem to stop shaking. Every single one of his senses feels like it's on fire. Is this how you feel whenever he tops you? Jesus f*cking Christ.

He huffs and thrashes his head around before weakly holding his hands up in surrender. "Okay! Okay, fine! Alright, god damnit, take a knife! Stuff it in your bra or whatever, just f*ckin' get off me! Please, I can't take anymore ...you f*cking succubus!"

"Hmm.. I'm glad you see it my way." You hum while stroking the bridge of his nose with a featherlight touch. After lightly booping him on the nose, you give him a quick peck before rolling off of him and flopping back into your seat. As you start gleefully digging through the selection of knives, Danny hurriedly unbuckles his seatbelt, rolls his head back against the headrest, and lets out a huge sigh of relief. Out of the corner of your eye, you notice the way his well-fitted button up dress shirt and vest strain over his muscles with each breath, as his chest steadily rises and falls while he greedily gulps down as much air as possible, all in hopes of getting enough oxygen to get his mind out of the gutter and back on track. Eventually he flops his head to the side and stares at you through narrowed slits, co*cking an eyebrow at you at the same time. The irritated expression on his face makes you giggle, though you try to conceal it by covering your mouth with the back of your hand. It doesn't work.

"I hate you so very much." He gruffly spits out, like the words themselves had tasted sour on his tongue.

"Awww, I love you too. Now, are you ready to go inside, Jeddy-Bear?" You coo while tilting your head and staring at him adoringly as you stuff the pocket knife into your bra, manila folder still tightly clasped in your grasp. Meanwhile, Danny widens his eyes and stares at you for a couple heartbeats-- like he's unsure if he heard you correctly. You have to sink your teeth into your bottom lip to keep yourself from laughing as he visibly struggles to process pet name, only to quickly come to the conclusion that he does notlike it.

"Jeddy-Bear? Did you just-- I-- Oh my god, I just might kill you." He violently gigglesnorts while covering his face with the palms of his hands. He dramatically groans in annoyance while dragging his fingers down the front of his face, stretching and exaggerating his features. With a sigh, he carelessly lets them flop into his lap and stares straight ahead before huffing in mild disbelief. Then he looks over at you and scoffs. "You act up too much, princess. Seriously, do I needto choke you in order to get you back in line? Will that sort of violent attention satisfy your bratty ass needs?"

"Choke me? With what? With your hands?" You begin with a confused expression that slowly morphs into a twisted, impish smile. "Or do you mean with your--"

"GET OUT OF THE CAR!" He roars before promptly flinginghimself out from the vehicle, all in a desperate attempt to get away from yourlusty ass. You cackle while climbing out of the car, laughing the entire time as you lock the door and slam it shut before quickly dashing over to where your 'husband' is hunched over, trying to catch his breath. When he hears the rapid clicking of your high heels speeding across the pavement, he looks over his shoulder and girlishly yelps at the sight of you charging at him full-speed, only to collide with his body mere seconds later. Thankfully however, Danny-- er, Jedwas able to spin around and catch you in his arms before you 'accidentally' caused him to topple over.

Deep laughter rumbles through his chest as he holds you close in his arms before burying his nose into your hair. He allows his eyes to gently fall shut as he deeply inhales your natural scent, using it as a sort of calming agent to help soothe his rapid heartrate. "Mmmm... you know-- you can be a pain in the ass sometimes, but I love you anyway. Now, you know that you are to refer to me as 'Jed' from here on out until we are alone again. Right? Good. Are you ready to go inside, Dahlia?"

"Oh yes, dearest husband of mine! I'm so very ready! Shall we enter, hand-in-hand?" You dreamily sigh while curling up against his chest, causing him to snicker under his breath before rolling his eyes at your ridiculous antics. With an amused shake of his head, he wraps his arm around your waist and pulls you up against him until the both of you are hip-to-hip. Then without another word, he begins walking you towards the tall office building.

It's safe to say that by now, Danny has likely shifted over into his 'Jed' persona, and you aren't just saying that because he ordered you to refer to him as such for the remainder of the evening. You're not an expert in body language or anything of the sort, but you're as much of an 'expert' one can be when it comes to him and his unpredictable mind. The differences between his personas are very subtle, but they're still there-- you just have to know what you're looking for. It's also easier to understand if you treat 'Jed' and 'Danny' as two entirely different people, which is exactly what Danny prefers you to do in the first place.

Jed is the guy that'd you expect to be used as inspiration for some sort of flashy superhero movie, because that's exactlyhow the man walks and talks. Jed Olsen, as Danny has described him to you, is America's idea of the perfect man; he always works hard, always maintains a professional attitude in and out of the workspace, and closely follows modern society's set of ideals and rules like they're the word of God. He's the kind of guy that most fathers picture their daughters growing up to marry one day and eventually have lots of babies with; confident, kind, well-mannered, and always willing to lend a helping hand.

Danny, on the other hand, is the villain of the movie-- and not just any villain, he's the bad guy that's inner darkness is just so irresistible, you can't help but want to drown in it. He's the sexy motherf*cker that parents warn their little girls to stay away from when they grow up. When Danny walks, he swaggersdown the street. His gait is brazen, arrogant-- like he's so co*cksure that everything he has planned will come to fruition, exactly the way he wants it to.Danny is the kind of guy who gets what he wants,whenhe wants, and doesn't give two sh*ts about whose day gets ruined in the process.

And you? Well... you've always fancied villains more than you do superheroes.

But despite his many personas, one thing will always ring true; Danny, deep down to the roots of his very core, cares about you in his own sick and twisted little way. Even now as 'Jed', he's constantly scanning the horizon for possible threats, subtly checking out all of the cars that the both of you pass, just to make sure there isn't anyone inside them that could fling open the door and rip you from his arms. There aren't any dangers that are openly apparent at the moment, but you can never be too cautious when you're walking through a crowded parking lot late at night-- Which is why when a car door slams in the distance, the both of you to lift your head and look in the direction from which it came, only to quickly scurry across the lot and towards the office building posthaste.

Obviously you're both alittleon edge, especially if you're both getting startled by car doors being shut.

When you finally cross the threshold of the Gazette building's double glass doors, both you and Jed let out sighs of relief before walking further in. You quickly come to understand that the Roseville Gazette office building isn't super fancy by any means, but it's definitely not your typicaldirty office building that always reeks of stale air or moldy carpet. The entryway is fairly nice-- it looks clean and well kept, modestly decorated with some pretty plants to give the space a splash of life and color. The tile floors look shiny and polished, and the large glass windows that decorate the front of the building are free of handprints and streak marks. Obviously the gazette must have a verygood team of janitors to keep this place clean round-the-clock.

The only real eyesore in the entry way is the security desk, which appears to be occupied by two male security guards, neither of which appear to be able to pick up after themselves. You spare an unimpressed glance in Jed's direction, frowning as he sympathetically nods at you before hooking his elbow around your own. As he guides you closer towards the desk to check in, you have to fight the urge to sneer at the disorderly state of the front desk-- there must be at least a dozen boxes of sticky candies and sugary pastries littering the entirety of the desk, which appears to be covered in some sort of sticky film upon closer inspection. Crumbs speckle the keyboards of the bulky office computers fitted to the desk, and you inwardly sigh at a small trail of ants that appear to be attracted to a box of food, which was either discarded or simply forgotten.

The scrawny pair of guards themselves don't look much better. Their uniforms are wrinkled, crooked, and have more than a couple stains on them that lead you to believe the lingering stench in the air is coming from them and notthe nearby trash bin. Their facial features are quite similar, which leads you to believe that the two guards are brothers-- and a quick glance at their name tags confirms it. Stringy blonde curls bounce around on the tops of their oily scalps as they laugh and clink their cans of soda together, spilling the caramel-colored liquids all over place as they remain completely unaware of your and Jed's presences.

You shudder in disgust while nestling closer towards your 'husband', who pats your hand reassuringly before politely clearing his throat to get the guards' attention. He tries for several minutes to get their attention-- his attempts don't work of course, not that surprises you much. You want to let it go, but the hardened expression on Jed's face tells you that this must happen fairly often, which irritates your already agitated state even further. So without truly thinking about it, you decide to handle the situation yourself;

"HEY-YO. DUMB AND DUMBER-- DO YOUR JOB!" You snap in an authoritative tone the commands their attention, prompting the two blonde-headed baboons to whip their heads around like they just got yelled at by a drill sergeant. When they are met by your pretty little face, however, their shocked expressions quickly turn into lecherous leers as they lean up onto their elbows to address you. You narrow your eyes into dangerously thin slits as you tightly curl your left hand into a fist, hoping the shiny fat rock on your ring finger will tell them to back off.

Thankfully they take the time to notice both the ringandthe way Jed has his arm hooked around yours, and quickly lean back down into their seats before bowing their heads and swallowing thickly. You have no doubt that they're intimidated by the sight of you all cozied up with your 'husband'-- Jed is easily3 times their size, which makes you wonder why the gazette building hired these too bums in the first place. They're super skinny and have little to no muscle mass. Surely, they can't do much damage to somebody if they were to actually attack the building?Christ, they don't even look like they haveguns.

The Gazette isf*ckedif anyone ever decides to rob them.

They anxiously glance at one another before silently moving to check you in and buzz you upstairs. Whythey're checking both you and Jed in as if this were a hotel and not an office building is completely lost on you, but you suppose it must be something done at the request of Jed's boss-- probably to prove that people showed up to the party so he doesn't get in trouble, if you had to guess.

"Elevator nu-number 3 awaits you, M-Mr. and Mrs. Olsen." says one of the brothers-- Jacoby Mills, according to his name tag.

His brother, Jeffrey Mills, quickly follows up; "Yo-You're 6 minutes late... The boss will be--."

"Irritated! Yes! Thank you so much for telling me that, Mr. Jeffrey Mills, but you should know that I'm already wellaware of that. See, unlike some,I actually pay attention because I know I have a job to do-- one that I would like to keep! Don't you have a job? One that entails guarding the front entry and making sure the guests arrive safely? Is that not what the boss, Mr. Lambert, pays you to do? Perhaps if some people--let's say you and your brother, for example--did their duties and PAID ATTENTION, I wouldn't be delayed! What an inconceivable idea, am I right?!" Jed cheerilyexclaims with bright, happy eyes before slowly leaning in to stare Jeffrey down. "I will not allow a blemish to be put on my clean record because of you and your brother's foolishness. Have I made myself perfectly clear?"

The skinny security guard shrinks in his seat and visibly cringes. "Ye-Yes Sir!"

"Wonderful! Then the both of you can expect a meeting with Mr. Lambert in the near future... Also, I'd appreciate if you'd kindly stop glancing at my wife's breasts, especially considering I'm standing RIGHT HERE, watching you do it!" Jed sharply sneers with a growl, prompting both of the brothers toriptheir eyes away from your chest and nervously shift them back over to Jed, who just rolls his own eyes in annoyance before taking you by the hand and storminghis way around the desk and over to elevator #3.

While the brothers angrily bicker among themselves and try to put the blame on one another, you say nothing as Jed practically drags you behind him, your feet struggling to keep up with his long strides. Upon reaching the elevator, you are more-or-less shoved into it by your 'husband', who snarls under his breath as he chases after you. As soon as the doors shut behind him, you quickly come to the realization that you've just been caged in with a wild animal and shriek out when he suddenly rushes for you and promptly slams you up against the nearest wall, and the manila folder you had been holding onto for him falls to the ground.

You're not sure who it is that's staring down at you right now-- Jed, Danny, Ghost Face-- all you know is that his hands are now firmly wrapped around your throat. They don't even squeeze or so much as twitch, but the feeling of your pulse wildly throbbing up against his fingertips wakes you up better then a cup of hot coffee first thing in the morning.

Hoping to get an explanation as to what the hell is going on with your boyfriend, you open your mouth to speak, but anything you try to say becomes unintelligible nonsense during your struggle to get free. But when your squirming fails to get him to just f*cking let you go, you eventually give up on trying to get free and decide that your next best option is tosassthe motherf*cker currently holding your throat hostage.

"Okay, so are we fighting or flirting right now? Because I'm honestly getting mixed signals." You huff while pointedly arching an eyebrow, unable to resist holding back the grin that curls onto your face after your boyfriend's hardened expression immediately drops before the man in question then goes on to seemingly go through the 5 stages of grief all within the span of a few seconds. It's quite funny to watch, actually-- you'd laugh out loud if there wasn't a serial killer's hand currently wrapped around your neck.

"You-- My hands are literallywrapped around your throat." He hisses while outright gawking at you.

"That doesn't answer my question." You retort before sinking your teeth into your lower lip and purring lascivious at him, sealing the deal with a playful wink. Something flashes within your boyfriends eye before he rolls them into the back of his head while loudlygroaning in annoyance, only to surprise you by smashing his lips on top of yours mere seconds later. Still gripping your neck in one hand, he moves to caress your cheek with the other while you begin threading your fingers through his hair, as the both of you begin feverishly pushing your bodies up against one another, losing yourself in a seductive dance of writhing bodies.

"You're such a pain in the ass--" He says in between all of the heavily placed kisses and sweet smooches, groaning at the sweet taste of your lips as they grind and push up against his own. His brows furrow together in concentration as he focuses on trying not to losecomplete control over himself. His hand on your cheek slowly slithers up to your scalp, where he pushes a couple locks of your hair out of your face before roughly grabbing a handful of it to keep you obedient. He moans against your lips and roughly bucks his hips against yours, before forcing himself to break the kiss and angrily snarl at you. "--You weren't supposed to draw attention to yourself! What the hell were you thinking, calling them out like that?"

"Aww but baby, you know I love it when the spotlight is on me." You breathily giggle out with a darling little smile, only to sigh and roll your eyes. "Besides, I can't help it if some pathetic little boysfind my tit* to be more interesting than your scolding. --And as for what I was trying to do, I was doing the same damn thing that you were about to do! Why does it matter!?"

"Those guys have a record, princess!" He growls. "They might look like a pair of scrawny little twats, but they've been known to harass and assault women before! I've looked into them before, they've even got a god damn record. Lambert was willing to let their records slide and hire them as a family favor to their parents because they're good friends of his, and the only reason they haven't made a move recently is because 90% of my coworkers are dudes. I didn't want them to do to you what they've done to other women."

"Baby, I have a knife tucked between my titt*es, and I've got youto protect me." You quietly coo, dropping a hand down to sweetly caress his cheek. A soft smile curls onto your lips as he sighs while leaning into your touch, an even allows his eyes to flutter shut as you begin to stroke the curve of his cheek with your thumb. "Baby, I'll be fine, I swear.I know you like to call me your 'cupcake' and your 'princess', but I promise I'm anything but fragile."

"I know you're not, I have first hand experience that you're not." He admits with a sigh, while loosening his grip on your throat before releasing it completely and allowing his hand to fall back down to his side. "I worry about you. I'm not used to all these f*ckin-- emotions.They're confusing. Feeling so many different things at one time gives me a headache and then I lash out like I did... I f*ckin-- I grabbed your throat again and I promised you that I wouldn't..."

"Hey, I'm not mad at you. You didn't actually choke me, so I'm gonna say it doesn't count. As for the emotions thing, it'll be okay. You'll learn to deal with them eventually, and I'll help you learn how to process them as best as I can, Ipromise." You coo reassuringly while placing your hands on his shoulders, only to frown when your boyfriend shamefully hangs his head and sighs in defeat, prompting you to curl your index finger underneath his chin and force him to look back at you. "Besides... you can always make it up to me in other ways, right? You know I love that thing you do with your tongue..."

"...Well, that's true. Alright. I'll... stop beating myself up, I guess." He chuckles softly before sighing and nodding his head. He pushes himself off the wall, but his paranoid ass reaches out to hold your hips steady the very minute you try to move. "Easy, easy. Don't want you to fall over in those heels. Are you ready to go? Party is on the 5th floor."

"Yep! Spank that button, baby!" You cheerfully reply.

Jed sweetly hums at your cheery nature and lightly pecks you on the mouth one final time before whipping around and pounding his fist into the 5th level button. Once the elevator has finallystarted to move, you take the time to pick up the manila folder and begin trying to smooth out your dress and adjust your clothes, making sure all your bits and bobbles are covered and that nothing is out of place. Jed watches you closely from his place beside you, chuckling softly as you fuss and fight with your outfit.

"You lookfine." He reassures you. "Stop fussing."

"I don't want to look 'fine', I want to look gorgeous.Beautiful. Irresistible. I want to look like I'm ready to get f*cked all night on top of a pile of money." You huff before subtly glancing back over at Jed, smirking when he violently snorts and attempts to hide his laugher by coughing into his hand.

"That's one way to describe it. I'd also say those are all very accurate descriptions." He chuckles darkly before reaching his arm over and wrapping it around your waist, pulling you close while purring deeply into your ear. You shiver and giggle playfully as you are pulled up against hard muscle, thinly veiled by Jed's straining thin dress shirt and form-fitting dress pants. The silken material of his tie slowly draaaagsacross the open-back of your dress, making your sensitive flesh break out into wild goosebumps as you sink your teeth into your bottom lip and try not to moan.

"You're trying to kill me, you have to be. Not only are you sharply dressed tonight, but you're wearing the very same tie you used to bound my wrists when you gave me my first punishment, and are purposefully dragging it across my skin." You playfully growl through clenched teeth before tilting your head head and shifting your gaze to peer up at Jed when he starts to softly laugh under his breath.

He chuckles before bending at the waist to whisper into your ear in that sinfully deep, gravely tone of his. "I'm wearing more than just the tie, cupcake. Turn around and look. Go on, take a closer look at the outfit. You'll like it, I promise. You should notice I'm wearing a very specific suit-- one you have intimate knowledge of."

Thatmakes you whip your head around on the spot to look up him and down, and boy, are you surprised! You can't believe it's taken you all night to notice it until now, but Jed apparently decided to wear the very exact suitthat he wore when he first showed up on your doorstep to kill you, only to end up, uh... well... f*cking you instead.Oops?

Upon seeing your face cheeks become flush with pink, Jed chuckles deeply to himself before bending at the waist and staring at you through partially lidded eyes. "I figured you'd appreciate the sentimental value that this particular suit holds."

"I do..." You admit quietly, breathlessly, like the air had been forcefully ripped from your lungs. Your heated gaze lingers on him for a few more seconds before you notice that he chose to forgo wearing the blazer tonight, prompting you to flash him a bemused smile. "Where is the blazer?"

"Currently being used by Jinx as a blanket." He confesses as the corners of his eyes crinkle, his lips curling into a slightly bashful smile. "She fell asleep on it while you were getting ready, and I didn't have the heart to steal it back."

You coo adoringly at Jed while placing your hand against his chest, right exactly as the elevator doors swing open. With the last barrier between you and Jed's coworkers removed, they get a full peek at what the man is like behind doors. What should have been a touching and private moment between you and your 'husband' has unfortunately become entertainment for the local busy bodies at the Gazette's headquarters. All and any idle chattering comes to a complete stop upon seeing the famous 'Ghost Face' feature writer lingering in the doorway of the elevator, with a pretty woman on his arm no less. No one moves at first-- they all just sit there like cattle in a field, chewing on vegetables and cheese cubes that have been spiked through little toothpicks.

Hip to hip and side by side once more, you and Jed step out of the elevator and step further into the office, with everyone's eyes clinging to the both of you. Some of the men's gaze linger alittle too longon your curves, prompting them to either get stared down by Jed's smiling face or slapped upside the back of the head by their jealous wives. You do your best not to giggle, secretly taking delight in causing chaos among the work place-- after all, you've been quite the talk of the office, as far as you understand. All anyone knew about you was whatever little information Jed gave his coworkers while fawning over something you did for him to make his day easier-- be it delivering his coffee, packing his lunch, or helping him keep track of whatever files he needed for the day. As far as they understood, you were a very devoted wife and Jed was an equally devoted husband. Hopefully no one would get the bright idea to try and insert themselves in between the two of you.

Out of the blue, an excited high-pitched nasally shrill sounds off through the office, and a woman with big, bouncy doll-like curls wearing a strapless bright barbie-pink dress comes running over and tries to throw herself at Jed. 'Tries' is the keyword here-- In an attempt to save himself, Jed quickly wraps both of his arms around you, pressing his chest flat against your back and thereby giving himself an excuse not to give the woman a hug. When she stumbles over her own feet and skids to a stop in front of the both of you, she pointedly glares at you, making you realize that this woman is none other than Miranda Alberts.

Huh. She must have dyed her hair from blonde to brunette. Weird, she looks totally different. Did she get a nose job, perhaps?

Miranda giggles obnoxiously, and you can practically feel Jed's stomach twist in disgust at the sound. Then she tries to reach out for him to hug her and even makes grabby motions with her hands, but Jed has no shame in denying her-- he's never hugged her before, he's not sure why she thinks he would do so now, especially when he hasyou wrapped up in his arms. Does she honestly think he's daft enough to let go of his 'wife' to hug another woman? Granted, you aren't reallyhis wife-- yet --but that's beside the point.

She shouldn't be trying to make moves on a man who is married.

"Aw c'mon, J!" She giggles coquettishly, bobbing her head and swinging her curls all over the place. "You aren't going to hug your work wife?"

"Uh... no. No, I'm not. I can't hug my 'work wife' because I don'thavea work wife. It's impossible to hug something that doesn't exist. You should know that, it's common sense." He deadpans, pulling you a little closer to his chest. Miranda just stands there, staring up at him with a strained smile while everyone else laughs at her foolish attempts to get his attention. Apparently everyone except her seems to be able to comprehend and understand that Jed is very much notinto her, and yet she keeps trying to woo him. You almost pity her-- almost.

Although you're well aware of how it feels to absolutely adore someone while they seem to barely be able to bring themselves to tolerate your very existence, you have no sympathy for the woman standing before you. How could you, after everything you've been told about her? Time and time again, your boyfriend has come to you for comfort after coming home from work, complaining about how Miranda whispered filthy things in his ear after cornering him in the bathroom, or smacked his ass while he was bent over the copy machine. She's even sent lots of racy photos of herself to his work email, to the point where he's had to block her address just to get her to stop! And as if that wasn't discouraging enough, he told Mr. Lambert about her unwanted advances, but the man just laughed at Jed's complaints and called him 'lucky' for getting some action at work. It's frustrating, very, very frustrating.

But lo and behold, an opportunity presents itself!

When Miranda's shoulders drop in exasperated defeat, you suddenly get the great idea to cut your way into the conversation under the pretense of cheering her up. Playing up your 'happy house wife' persona, you rush over to Miranda and quickly throw your arms around her before she has a chance to protest your advances. When she opens her mouth to complain, you loudly talk over her and sputter about how ecstatic you are to finally meet her. Miranda is obviouslyunhappy, of course-- you are the lastperson she wants to be getting cozy with, after all. You're sure she'dmuchrather be cozied up to Jed.

Miranda is about to hiss at you to release her, up until you start to excitedlybabbling about how Jed told youallabout her. You continue on to feverishly praise the woman in your arms despite her whispered pleadings and her quiet protests, prompting her to freeze up in your arms when you startloudly talking about how sweetthose emails of hers were, and about how helpfulJed must have found it when she decided to help him fix the copy machine. By the time you're finished 'complimenting' her, she's practically sobbing in your arms for you to shut the f*ck up.

Jed's coworkers watch on with compassionate smiles, completely oblivious and unaware of the thinly-veiled threats hidden within your words. Miranda tries to maintain her dignity by trying not to cry, but promptly bursts into big fat tears when you squeeze her close enough to feel the outline of the folded pocket knife hidden in your bra. She immediately begins to struggle in your grip, and thrashes around to get out of your hold, frantically squealing out some silly nonsenseabout how she'll 'leave him alone forever' if you just let her go.Acting confused, you make a point not to let her go until you're certain that your point has been made.

When she starts squealing like a stuck pig, you know you've made yourself clear.

As soon as she is free, she doesn't linger nearby for long-- nor does she go quietly. Matter of fact, the very second she is able to pull away from you, she makes a dive for the bright pink purse her desk, maniacally sobbing in genuine fear for her life. Salty tears cause her mascara and foundation to streak down her cheeks like rolling rivers, as she openly wails while shrieking at the top of her lungs that no man or job will ever be worth the price of her life. You feign concern, of course, and furrow your brows together before taking a step towards her with your arms out stretched, but she screechesas soon as you try to get close to her and violently swings her heavy purse at you to keep you away, causing everyone to gasp in shock at her odd, combative behavior.

Everyone watches on with confused expressions as Miranda continues to have a complete mental break down, switching back and forth between shouting out that she quits and cursing you out. Then with comicaltiming, a balding, sparse-haired older man dressed in a very flashy (and likely very expensive) electric blue suit comes waltzing out of one of the nearby enclosed office spaces, and demands an explanation upon seeing Miranda frantically gathering her things from her designated desk space. When she doesn't respond, the man places his hand on her shoulder and angrily rattles her around while loudly demanding an explanation from, only to rear back in shock when she turns and slaps him across the face before bolting towards the elevator with all of her belongings.

When she leaves, the entire office goes dead quiet.

With Miranda gone, everyone slowly turns their attention on to you, the supposed source of her strange, unwarranted distress. With everyone's eyes carefully trained on you once again, you attempt to seal your convincing act with some equally convincing crocodile tears, prompting the small mob of gazette workers to coo at you sympathetically when your bottom lip begins to quiver. Once tiny little diamond tears begin rolling down your rosy cheeks, Jed urgently wriggles and nudges his way through the crowd, mumbling whispered pardons on his way to get to you.

Uponfinallybreaking through the crowd, he quickly dashes over to where you have begun to 'weep' into the tender palms of your hands. Without hesitation, he wraps his arms around you like a security blanket, holding you close to his chest while slowly rocking you back and forth. Resting his chin atop your head, he coos at you while cradling the back of your neck with one hand and gently rubbing your spine with the other.

"Shhh.... it's okay, it's okay. Don't cry, honey. It's not your fault, you didn't doanythingwrong." He murmurs sweetly to you before lightly kissing the top of your head as a way to subtly showcase his approval for the sly little act you just pulled. He opens his mouth to 'comfort' you some more, but a gruff voice calls out to him, prompting bothof you to slowly lift your heads and twist your necks around.

In front of you stands the older man from before, and he looks less than enthused about what just went down. You manage to keep yourself from cringing at the sight of his mean ol' wrinkly mug, but cannot stop yourself from fearfully huddling closer to Jed. Your reaction cannot be helped, cannot be controlled-- not when the guy, who you are assuming is Mr. Lambert, looks exactly like the kind of old, ugly that hits on young women and underage girls wherever he goes-- and you definitely put an emphasis on the 'ugly' part. The majority of his sunspot-covered head is bald, save for a few wild, chunky tufts of snowy white hair that do him absolutely no favors, nor do his bushy eyebrows, and the electric blue suit he's wearing comes off more as a pimp suit than it does a business suit. The tiny little gold chain hanging around his saggy neck doesn't help his image either.

In simple terms, the guy looks like the living definition of a creepy old perverted white man.

Mr. Lambert arches a brow and crosses his arms over his chest in what you think is an attempt to look intimidating, but all his arm-crossing succeeds in doing is making it look like he has tit* that could rival your own. Then before you can even think about blinking, the manila folder that you've been holding onto all this time for Jed is promptly ripped out of your hand. Jed's boss says nothing to you or your 'husband' as he opens the file and starts digging and sifting through the file's contents, thoroughly inspecting everything until his curiosity has been sated.

Once Mr. Lambert closes the file, he just tucks it inside of his blazer and nods at Jed before trying to walk away, stalking back towards his private office space for whatever reason. Doesn'teven thank him! For anything!Though, you can't say that you'rereallyall that surprised. Jed has always told you the only reason the normally stoic man will hold a polite conversation with anyone is if he thinks the conversation will earn him one of two things; women, or money. And since you donotwant to give Mr. Lambert the impression that he has any chance of getting anything fromyou,you're perfectly happy to let Jed handle any and all conversation aspects with his boss.

"Did you find everything you needed, Mr. Lambert?" asks your 'husband' with a tilt of his head, obviously hoping to get a little bit more out of the man than just a simple nod of his head. You secretly smile to yourself, knowing that it probably drives Jed absolutely batty when he receives no praise after working so hard on an article. Not that you blame him-- you'd want to be properly credited for your hard work too, especially when you get paid very little despite being one of the most sought after writers in the city.

Upon hearing Jed's voice, Mr. Lambert stops mid-step and slowly pivots back around to face his top writer. He stares at both Jedandyou for a moment, likely contemplating if the upcoming conversation will be worth any of his time or if he could possibly come up with some sort of excuse before making a dash for his desk. When Jed gives him a (forced) hopeful expression, Lambert sighs in defeat and shifts his weight from foot to foot before breaking his silence. "Yes, I did. I plan to submit it to get printed first thing in the morning, we need to get the story out as soon as possible... and while I still have your attention, when do you plan on writing your next article on Ghost Face? The people demand more! More ratings, Jed! The company needs it!"

You inwardly scoff-- more like his pockets need it after last week's expensive vacation to Las Vegas!

"Ghost Face? Sir, I plan on writing about The Shade next." Jed informs his boss with a confused expression as he breaks away from you and takes a couple steps towards his boss, before rushing to defend his choices when Mr. Lambert makes a funny face in return. "Sir, I informed you of my decision to write about The Shade almost two weeks ago and you gave the approval to go forth with it! I still have the approval papers on my desk!"

"Did I, really? Because I don't remember giving you my approval, Jed." Mr, Lambert says while crossing his arms over his chest, before going off to huff and wave his hand around dismissively. "Regardless of that, do you think you'd be able to pull it off? Honestly boy, do you really think the people want to read about a femalekiller? Why would we need to write about her when we've already got Ghost Face as our headliner?"

When you flick your eyes away from Mr. Lambert and back over to Jed, you have to fight the urge to fearfully widen your eyes at the way your husband's body language pointedly changes from 'Jed' to 'Danny/Ghost Face' for a split second. It doesn't linger for any longer than just a few seconds, but like Danny has always told you-- just because you can't see him, doesn't mean he's not there.

"Like I said,sir, I have the approval papers still on my desk in my office. I can grab them for you in a few minutes, if you don't believe me-- and as far as what I think about what people will read, yes! Yes, I do think people will want to read about a female killer, especially one like The Shade! She's is a very prolific killer and I've already done extensive research on her. The only reason more of the population has not heard of her is because she's been largely overlooked by the media in favor of Ghost Face. She's just as dangerous as he is, I can assure you. For example; just this past month, there have been over 28 reported victims of hers. Do you know how many reported victims of Ghost Face's there were this month?"

"17." Lambert scoffs indignantly while dramatically rolling his eyes in annoyance. "Of course I'd know! I'm the boss!"

"It's 19 actually, but you get my point." Jed says with an easy smile and squinty eyes, trying to mask the fact he's furious that someone would dare get his statistics wrong. "She's surpassed Ghost Face's body count this month. Surely you don't mean to tell me I shouldn't write about a killer who's apparently able to keep up with Ghost Face, simply because she's a woman?"

"Mr. Olsen it almost sounds like youadmire this mysterious woman." Lambert says with a chuckle.

"It's unethical to admire a serial killer, as well as highly unhealthy." Jed says plainly, though the crooked smile on his face tells you that he finds this conversation to be veryamusing. "I don't admire her, I simply find her to be... interesting."

"Andwhyis that, Jed?" Mr. Lambert sighs while stuffing his hands into his pockets, before flopping his head to the side and staring at him with a bored expression. "You've got to throw me a bone and prove to me that letting you write about this 'Shade' lady is worth the company's time. How do I know your 'research' is even accurate?"

"Actually, sir--" Interjects one of Jed's more nervous looking coworkers, who flinches when both Jed and Mr. Lambert turn their heads to look at him. "-- I can confirm that Jed is telling the truth. You se-see, The Shade has already made the news on several media outlets on TV. She made headlines again just last week, and our ratings actually droppedthe following paper release because people were wondering why we hadn't written about the recent headliner killing when everyone else was. People were ecstatic to hear about more Ghost Face, of course, but they were also wondering why they hadn't heard anything about her."

"Did they really? Well.. that changes things." Mr. Lambert says as his hardened expression changes into one of concern-- anything that causes the ratings to drop is considered an emergency in his eyes, of course... and his wallet, but that's beside the point.Eventually he whips his head around to look back at Jed and nod. "Alright. In that case, you can proceed with your decision. Do it quickly, but make it detailed! Get those ratings back up!"

Jed gives his boss a mocking salute, which makes you giggle in amusem*nt. As his boss stalks away while rolling his eyes, you saunter up beside your dear ol' Jeddy-Bear with a soft smile played across your painted lips. You open your mouth, intending to say some smart ass comment to rile him up, but only end up letting out a squeal when Jed unexpectedly wraps an arm around you and pulls you close so he can lightly peck you on the cheek. His coworkers coo and laugh at the both of you before finally turning their attentions elsewhere, nursing their drinks as they return to their own private conversations about trivial things like work and money. When they become distracted by their own worlds once again, Jed takes the opportunity to bend at the waist and press his lips up against your earlobe.

"How are you doing, cupcake? Holding up okay, I hope?" He quietly whispers while unintentionally dragging his lips across your sensitive flesh.

"I'm okay." You confirm with a firm nod and a slight shiver. "I just feel like I'm stuck in a weird spot between 'absolutely terrified' and 'painfully aroused'. I mean as much as I hate to admit it, watching you nearly slip into your 'Ghost Face' headspace while arguing with your boss and defending my name was nerve-wracking as hell but also very titillating. "

"That's because you're just as screwed up in the head like I am, my dearest." He mumbles before pressing his soft lips right behind your earlobe in a sweet kiss. Then hepurrswhile slowly spinning you around, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you close until his chest is pressed up against your back. He chuckles darkly into your ear as you quiver, enjoying the way your entire body shudders up against him. "Should I tell you about all the things I wanted to do to him? Hmm? Should I tell you about how baaaadly I wanted to tear him apart for talking about you the way that he did?"

"Oh God, no--" You feverishly whisper, before quietly whimpering when he pushes the bridge of his nose up against the back of your earlobe and forcefully exhales, his hot breath spilling across the expanse of your skin in such a way that he knows will make your head spin-- and spin it does. You have to fight through the lusty haze of your brain just to spit out a response; "Da- Jed,they're going to hear you!"

"No they won't." He chuckles before lightly kissing your temple. "Even if they look over here, all they'll think is that I'm whispering something flirty in your ear. Just smile and giggle, sweetheart. That's all you'll need to do."

"Please, I'm not comfortable with it. It's too risky." You whine out pathetically.

"Alright, shhh... no worries. I won't. It's okay, I won't do it." Jed hums while pressing another kiss to the side of your face. "And before you ask-- no, I'm not mad or disappointed that you said no.Yes,we can talk more about it when we get home, since I know that's your safe place. Does that cover all our bases, sweetness?"

"Ye-Yes..."

"Good girl.... now, follow me to my office. I've got to grab a few things from my computer and then we'll leave." He murmurs into your ear while tenderly interlacing his fingers with your own. "I've had about enough of just about everyone here between the guards, Miranda, and my boss-- and before you ask, no, we won't be missed. Everyone in the office is guilty of leaving the party at one point or another, even Mr. Lambert."

"Oh, thank god." You groan dramatically while rolling your neck around. "Being forced to stare at your ass in that particular suit has been killing me the entire time we've been here. Its like-- it's right there, but I can't touch. Not fair!"

"Mmm, and your ass in that dress has been killing me, so I suppose we're even. Don't worry hon, I just have to grab a couple things and then we can go home and you can get as handsy as you want. C'mon, cupcake. Stay close.". Jed says before quietly leading you away from the main area and over to his designated office space.

Most writers don't get their own space-- they usually just get a desk out in the main area, but since Jed is Roseville Gazette's top featured writer, he gets special treatment due to Mr. Lambert's favoritism. It's probably another reason as to why Mr. Lambert didn't fire him after talking back mere moments ago-- if anyone else tried to do half the things the things Jed does on a regular basis, they'd get fired, probably sued, and tossed in jail to rot. Thankfully, Jed knows how to sweet talk his way out of some of the stickiest situations.

The paranoia radiating off of Jed is palpable-- at least to you, it is. After the both of you waltz into Jed's private office space, your 'husband' makes a point to quietly swing the door shut and lock it behind the both of you. His paranoia then gets the better of him, scratching and itching at the back of his mind until he attempts to turn the doorknob just to see if the lock will hold. When the lock clicks and refuses to budge, he finally relaxes and lets out a sigh of relief before turning his attention to his desk, satisfied that the door is secure and that no one can intrude on the both of you.

He sits himself down in a leather office chair situated in front of the large, dark wooden desk and boots up his computer. Upon spotting you awkwardly and aimlessly lingering around in his office, he chuckles and shakes his head before leaning back in his chair and patting his lap, offering it up for you to take. When you continue to stare at him with a hesitant expression on your face, he beckons you closer with a suggestive wriggle of his fingers, prompting you to blush before bashfully walking over to him. After you sit down in his lap and get comfortable, he provocatively purrs in your ear before wrapping his arms around your hips and pulling you closer, nestling your ass right against his crotch.

When you tense up in his arms, he can't help but let out a soft laugh and shake his head in amusem*nt. "Relax, Cupcake. It's just you and I in here. No cameras, no coworkers, no boss, nothing-- and the window on the door is even frosted, so no one can see inside. You can even call me Danny in here, sweetie-- the walls are even soundproofed to give me some privacy as I work. Somebody could be standing on the other side of the door and they wouldn't hear you make a peep."

"Wellthatdoesn't sound like you're trying to proposition me to have sex with you in your office. Noooo, not at all!" You sarcastically huff while crossing your arms over your chest, rolling your eyes dramatically when your boyfriend chuckles and leans up in his seat a little so his fingers can reach the keyboard on his desk.

"If it happens, it happens. If doesn't, it doesn't. Won't bother me either way, cupcake." Danny darkly chuckles before casually rolling his shoulders. Then he shifts his focus back to the computer, and opens up his email and begins slowly scrolling through it in an attempt to find a particular email. "Honestly lollipop, I just need to check my email and print a couple things."

"Like what?" You ask with a tilt of your head, having found interest in a cup full of colorful lollipops on his desk.

"Well for starters, I 'suggested' in last edition's paper that Matthew Harper wasn't one of Ghost Face's victims and pointed out several inconsistencies in the M.O. that didn't make sense. While I embarrassed the police, I didget the majority of the public's support. One of my frequent readers claimed to be related to the late Mr. Harper, and took the liberty of emailing me some private information on him in hopes I'll be able to find out more than the police did. I'm hoping to look over it back at home where you and I can both scan over the documents." He says candidly, before perking up after finding the exact email he needs. "There it is, the little f*cker... Just gotta print it now."

You stare for a hot minute before snatching one of the lollipops out of the cup. Unwrapping it quickly, you stick it in your mouth and hum at the fruity flavor, only to pause mid-suckle as you digest Danny's words. "Wait-- you need myhelp? That's... f*ckin' weird. You havewaymore connections than I do, what do you needmefor?"

"My connections out on the street could only tell me so much-- and I already knew the majority of what they were able to tell me anyway. You know your way around the dark web better than I do, and I figured you'd have better luck than I did, since you're more... techy than I am when it comes to our, uh... nightly routines, if you catch my drift." Danny explains with a careless wave of his hand as he waits for the documents to finish printing.

"Yeah, I gotcha... Well, I think it's sweet you want me to help. I'll do my best to-- ooh!" You finish with a squeal as Danny lifts you up off his lapwith very little effort. Your beefy boyfriend spins you around and then carefully places you on a clear section of the desk, away from stray papers, pens, and printer ink cartridges. Flashing you a dirty wink, he pries himself away from his desk-- and you, as a byproduct. Without a second to lose, Danny makes a dash towards the printer across the room, quickly snatching out a thick stack of papers that the printer finishes spitting out.

When he spins around to face you, he's got a smile on his face and is waving around the papers in the air like they're the key to all of his problems. You imagine in a way that they are the key-- if there is, in fact, something in those files, then you won't have to stay up until 4 AM anymore, forced to listen to Danny complain about how insulted he is that the police could evendare think that such shoddy knife work could be confused with his own 'perfect' style.

Danny is apparently eager to get the hell out of here, judging by the way he rushes over and pounds his fist into the CPU's power button. When the computer flickers off, he turns his attention to you and watches as you slide off the desk before taking a moment to smooth down your dress. He openly admires your form and softly smiles while appreciatively tilting his head to the side to get a better look at you. "Are you ready?"

"Yes, let's go.Please, let's get out of here." You beg, prompting Danny to take you by the hand and do just that.

The two of you silently slither out of his office like a pair of snakes, quietly shutting the door behind you before winding you way to the elevator doors. After pounding the buttons, the doors swing right open and allow you entry, and the both of you skitter inside, eager to get away from all the noise and chaos and get back home where you can both justbreatheand be yourselves. As the doors shut, you let out a soft, breathless laugh and shake your head.

It's kind of funny-- most of the time, you'd and Danny would love to stick around. These are the kinds of environments where the two thrive, after all-- soaking up the spotlight, flustering the resident little folk, and reveling in the attention that is bestowed upon the both of you-- that sort of thing. Yet here you are; running away from the party like a couple of juicy fat rats who were just spotted by the resident housecat. And why do you flee?

Because the both of you, in this moment, would rather be anywherebut here.

You are, honest-to-God,bone-tired. How could you not be? You've spent all day chasing that stupid Stevenson couple. Then you got beat the f*ck up by them and got all bruised, and then when you came home to finally prop your feet up, Danny's bossdemandedthat you show up to the office party or else your boyfriend would lose his job. What kind of bullsh*t is that?!Not fair. Not fair at all. Which is why when the elevator doors swing back open and the building's front door enters your line of sight, you and Danny step out of the elevator with a huge sigh of relief. Both of you walk towards the front door hand in hand, your only thoughts being to get to the car as soon as possible, so you can both finallygo home and finallycuddle up on the couch with each other like you've both been wanting to do all damn night.

However, an unexpected problem arises.

During your walk towards the front door, Danny suddenly falters mid-step. You haven't even made it to the security desk, but you can still hear the two guards' god awful laughter from where the two of you are currently standing, lingering not too far from the elevators. Their laughter makes you sick to your stomach, though you're not sure why until you look over at your boyfriend and nearly jump out of your skin at the sight of rage swirling around in the darkest depths of his eyes. Those once exhausted amber eyes now surge with raw, rippling rage, and every hair on the back of your neck stands up in high alert.

You stare at Danny with a slack-jawed expression, unsure of what to do, unsure if it's safe to talk or even breathe.Matter of fact, you're reminded of the fact that you need to breathe after your lungs painfully constrict, prompting you to sharply inhale, though it is completely muffled by the Mills brother's annoying laughter, which just seems to piss Danny off even further. Perhaps if you strain your ears and listen to their conversation, maybe you can figure out what has Danny all fired up?

You decide to do just that, and twist your head around to listen closely.

"Ahhh... You know, I never looked at it that way." says the voice of who you recognize to be Jacoby Mills, mouth largely occupied by what seems to be some sort of powdered jelly donut. "You're completely right."

"What, you mean about Ghost Face?" asks Jeffrey, who hums after his brother vigorously nods his head in return to his question. "Of course I'm right! I knowI'm right! I'm telling you man, the guy is probably nothing more than an edgy teenager playing dress up, all because he didn't get enough attention from his parents. He probably didn't get enough attention as a kid, that's probably why he makes up for it by dancing around in front of security cameras! Besides, aren't most serial killers just people with severe mommy and daddy issues? All you've got to do is tell him that mommy and daddy will never love him, and he'll probably burst into tears."

Jacoby's entire body shakes with laughter as he rocks back and forth in his seat, spilling crumbs of his donut all over the place in the process. "Maybe mommy didn't hug him enough as a kid!"

Jeffrey violently snorts at that and fervently nods his head. "Maybe mommy didn't wipe his assenough as a kid."

Oh. Oh, that's why Danny is pissed. They're talking about Ghost Face, and it doesn't sound like they're being respectful. sh*t.

While the brother's continue to laugh and goad each other on, you swivel your head around and swallow thickly at the sight of Danny's hardened expression. He looks like the living embodiment of fury personified. His chest deeply heaves with each rapid breath, causing the fabric of his spiffy vest and dress shirt to simultaneously strain and look 3 sizes too small for his large, broad frame. Dark brown locks fall down and stick to his damp forehead, refusing to budge even after he rakes his fingers through his hair to push it out of his face. His sweat soaks into his hair, causing the very ends of the strands to curl. Those very loose curls quiver as his entire body trembles with rage, his fingers repeatedly flexing and twitching like they're trying to manifest a blade to appear in the palm of his hand.

Outwardly, you look calm-- calm like the sea on a moonlight night, as the waves gently beat against the shore. But internally, you're slamming your fists into every panic button that your body has, causing anxiety to burn across your mind like a raging wildfire burns down a forest in the span of a few minutes. You know Danny well enough by now to know that the man is just barelyrestraining himself from slaughtering the guards right here and right now, and knowing that you'd be absolutely powerless to stop him terrifies you. It's not justhisidentity at risk if he decides to lose control of his temper-- it's yours, too.

"Okay--" You begin with a whisper, holding your hands up in surrender as you try to place yourself in between Danny and the guards. "--What we'renotgoing to do is lose our sh*t."

"I'm gonna lose my sh*t."

"NO--"

Before you can even blink, Danny's hand is suddenly reaching up towards your neck-- but instead of grabbing your windpipe, he wraps his fingers around the silver collar hanging around your throat. Yanking you closer like a disobedient puppy, he curls his upper lip into a sneer as the tips of your nose just barely graze each other, and promptly growls at you. When you whimper submissively in return, it seems to placate his inner beast, if only temporarily.

"You don't get to tell me what to do-- not right now at least." He whispers, flicking his dark brown eyes up and down the length of your face, taking in your frightened expression. "Stop that. Stop looking at me like that, I'm not going to hurt you. I love you, I'm just angry."

"I get that..." You murmur back before audibly swallowing down your nerves, your throat. "But I haven't seen you as get this angry since the night you came over to kill me. I'm not stupid, Danny. I know who I'm looking at right now."

"So why do you still look scared? Is it because you think I'm going to take my anger out on you and killyou,just because I'm angry at somebody else?" Danny whisper/growls at you, sounding completely and utterly insulted. "Do you not trust me?!"

"God damn it Danny, don't be f*cking stupid!" You hiss back, causing Danny's eyes to nearly pop out of his skull in shock. The both of you just silently stare for a couple heart beats while you quietly try to catch your breath, only to eventually let out a soft sigh and go right back to scolding him. "Of course I f*cking trust you, it's just the last time I saw you get this angry, you tried to f*cking killme! It's called having trauma, you stupid f*cking dumbass! I'm a f*cking woman, of course my first reaction to a pissed off man is to get scared! It's practically been bred into my DNA after years of being oppressed by a male-dominated society!"

Danny immediately lets go of your neck and tries to pull himself away from you-- but you won't allow him. Before his mind can truly comprehend it, you reach down and grab the crotch of his dress pants and use it to yank him right back over to you. He stares back at you wide-eyed and confused as you just glare back at him, waiting for him to figure out exactly what you want him to do. Then, slowly but surely, he slowly raises his hands up in surrender and quietly murmurs out "I'm sorry."

You try to make a point not to comment on the way his voice cracks.

You narrow your eyes, squinting at Danny before just barely nodding your head. "Good. Now since that's been taken care of, what the hell are we going to do to those two idiots up at the front desk? Wait in the parking lot? Follow em home, what?"

Danny blinks for a minute as his brain digests your words-- eventually his lips slowly begin to curl into a hopeful smile. "You want to help me kill them?"

"Oh, Danny..." You coo adoringly while gently reaching your hands up to cup the sides of his face. "You don't honestly think I'm going to let two little snot-nose bitch babies talk sh*t about my man, do you? What kind of gal do you take me for?"

Danny sharply inhales, his breath hitching in his lungs before he forcefully pushes everything out in a shaky breath. "God, I love you."

3 hours, a shower, and an entire load of laundry later, you and Danny are ready to raise some hell.

Finding out where the brothers lived was easy enough. Thanks to the Mills Brother's Instagram account, you found out that they live at 448 Palm Road, about a 5 minute walk from the Roseville's most popular beach. The boys practically liveon social media from what Danny told you-- everytime he checked into work for the day, he said if they weren't being obnoxiously loud and harassing whatever women happen to wander through the door, then they were taking pictures for Instagram. All it took was a quick search of their name and they popped up, first result. Honestly, finding out everything you needed to know about them was stupidly easy. It wasn't like they made any real effort to hide themselves or their private lives, so they practically did all the footwork for you-- all you had to do was type in a name and press 'Enter'. They basically handed you their address! ...But then again, most victims did without realizing it.

Social media was your ultimate weapon when it came to finding out more about your prey or personal playthings. Thanks to modern technology, your and Danny's 'job' as a serial killer became so much easier.In the particular day and age that you and your boyfriend are a part of, finding out anything about anyone was as easy as typing in an address or a username. The entire world was literally at your fingertips-- need an address? How about a phone number? What about the name of a distant relative or long forgotten friend? Just type in what you're looking for, and google shall deliver it to you on a golden platter without asking anyquestions.

Currently, you and Danny were crouched low, hiding in some bushes conveniently located beneath an open bedroom window. It's not hot out tonight-- there's actually a rather nice breeze going, and you can smell the salty ocean breeze as it wafts through the palm trees. Stars glimmer in the sky up above as the moonlight shines down upon the tiny little beach house, casting justenough shadows to hide your and Danny's forms.

If you tune your ears, faint music can be heard playing from within the house, though the majority of it can hardly be heard or understood over the loud, wild, and rowdy laughter echoing through the house. Slurred words and unintelligible curses can be heard alongside the laughter, bringing you to believe that the two Mills Brothers are thoroughlywasted. This is perfect-- not only are the two brothers built like scrawny little twigs, but their coordination will be horrible.

Easy prey, ripe for the picking.

Danny had a lot planned tonight. After the both of you arrived at the beach house, rage had settled into his system once again, and he was more than eager to each those two security guards a harsh lesson in respect... and you were more than ready to help him. With the both of you dressed up in your killer get-ups and equipped with a plethora of knives and two sets of handcuffs, you were ready to go-- for the most part. There was one last thingto get set up.

(How does one not have a face, yet still have an ungodly amount sex appeal?)
(Mask kinks and daddy issues. That's how.)

You fidget with the video camera tightly clutched in your fingers, setting it up and preparing it to record while Danny adjusts his mask and cowl. Once it's been set up and is ready to go, you hit the record button and slowly pan the camera up to meet Danny's face-- or at least his exposed jaw. The tendons in his hands flex as he grips the edge of the shroud before pulling it down over his head, alongside his mask. Memories of what those thick fingers are capable of cause you to groan, which is what ultimately catches his attention. Upon realizing that you're already recording, he smirks behind his mask and playfully shakes his head back and forth while repeatedly clicking his tongue against his teeth as if he's scolding you or disappointed.

"Naughty little girl..." He trills at you while wagging his index finger around, before then reaching out of the frame to tenderly cup your cheek. "Recording me already, cupcake? I thought I told you to wait until we were inside for that."

"Sorry baby." You happily hum while leaning into his touch, feeling very muchnotsorry. "I'm excited."

"Oh yeah? Good to know, good to know." He murmurs while slowly trailing his fingers down the side of your face and down to your neck, which has been adorned with a thick black O-ring collar. His fingers trace the outer curve of the ring, quietly humming out his approval into the night air. He had been so elated when you obliged his request to wear your play collar for the night-- you know he didn't have any plans to go thatfar tonight, he just liked the idea of you wearing it during your first time killing together.

"Is my collar crooked, Sir?" You quietly murmur, tilting your head back and opening up your neck for inspection. Danny shakes his head back and forth in return to your question before absentmindedly trailing his fingers across your neckline, taking his time to enjoy the feel of your neck muscles flexing beneath his featherlight touch. The sight of your neck bobbing as you swallow down some saliva as you patiently wait for an answer makes him coo adoringly at you-- you're so well behaved. So good,just for him.

And then, a dirty little idea pops into his head.

Drawing out his knife, Danny uses the tip of the blade to tease your senses, carefully dragging the sharp edge across your clothed neckline. Without thinking, you allow your eyes to flutter shut and bare your neck for him to touch as he sees fit. He's impressed at how well you're behaving for him, allowing him to glide the blade across your neck as an open display of trust. You don't push him for an answer, and for your patience, he rewards you by answering honestly; "No sweetpea, Sir is just taking the time to admire your pretty little neck."

Though his warm honeyed eyes are hidden behind his mask, you can still feel them burning their way across your skin. The feeling of his hot gaze on you is nearly unbearable-- like a red hot fire poker being raked across your flesh. It makes you want to scratch, squirm, fidget, and itch, but you won't. By now, you know Danny well enough to realize he's testing your limits, testing your loyalty by seeing how far he can push the boundaries. You're not upset-- that's just how Danny is. He needs to know that you are loyal to a fault. He can pretend that he's doing it just to get a rise out of you all he wants, but you know better. It's a test. It's always a test.

You pass the test with flying colors.

"Such a good girl..." He croons at you before pulling the blade away from your neck, allowing you to tilt your head back down as he tucks his prized blade back into his pocket. His head visibly bobs up and down as he gives you a quick once over. "Did you wear the camera vest like I asked you too?"

Wordlessly, you pull back the lapel of your black trench coat, revealing part of a thick leather harness strapped onto your chest. Danny nods his head in approval and reaches his palm out towards you, wiggling his fingers expectantly. You pass the camera to him and pull back the flaps of your trench coat, giving him plenty of room to work with as he begins strapping the camera to your chest. He fiddle with all of the buckles and all of the straps, lightly tugging on each and every one of them to make sure that his precious camera won't get broken during the chaos.

After making sure that the camera is secure, he tilts his head back up to look at you. "You climb in first. I'll boost you up. Sound good?"

"Aye aye, captain. Just try not to get too handsy with my ass while you're back there." You retort with a nod your head, absentmindedly pulling on the hem of the black hood covering the entirety of your head, face, and neck. Danny tuts and shakes his head back and forth in playful annoyance, while you make your way over to the window and reach up to grab the edge of the windowsill. Danny shuffles up behind you and boosts you up, allowing you to climb your way inside of the house.

As Danny works on climbing his phat-ass through the window, you crouch down and begin taking a look around the dimly-lit bedroom. It's a little hard to see on account of Danny's body blocking the moonlight shining through the window, but if you squint your eyes, you can just barely make out the messy bedroom floor. There are cigarette butts and empty beer bottles all over the place, and even a few panties-- stolen, you'd imagine. You hope. God forbid somebody bang one of the two idiots occupying this house and accidentally get pregnant by one of the stupid f*ckers.

You spin around to face your boyfriend, clasping your hands on the lapels of your coat to make sure the camera strapped to your chest gets a clear, unobstructed view of his ass as he works on quietly shutting the window. You arch an eyebrow from behind your hood at the sight and quietly purr in response to the nice view, prompting Danny to whiphis head around to stare at you. When he follows your line of sight and realizes that you're completely focused on hisass,he drops his head and sighs in exasperation.

Danny slowly lifts his head back up to look at you. "Baby girl, I know I havejuicy, luscious apples for ass cheeks,but can you focus on what we came here to do? You know-- killing those two bastards?"

"When are you going to let me tie you up and peg you?" You retort, blatantly ignoring his question. It takesevery single bitof Danny's self control not to squeal indignantly at the idea, though he is unable to keep himself from sputtering under his breath. When you finally tear your gaze away from his rump and look back up at his mask, you immediately giggle. Danny just stands there for several heartbeats, trying to figure out what to say.

He whips his head back and forth several times before whipping his head back to you and whisper-hissing at you; "Are youreallygoing to try and discuss thatnowof all times?"

"Uh....yeah.Yeah, I am." You reply with a grin, even though you know Danny can't see it. When he shakes his head back and forth in disapproval and starts anxiously fusses with the straps on his coat, you just quietly snort and tilt your head to admire him. "What? Do you not like the idea of me topping you?"

"No, as a matter of fact, I don't. I'm the dominant. I'm not a bottom." He huffs while drawing out his knife, slowly lowering himself into a crouching position. He starts making his way over to you, trying to be cautious about where he places his feet, lest he accidentally cause some of the empty beer bottles to click together.

"Maybe you're a switch and just don't know it... or don't want to admit it." You tease, grabbing a thick handful of his ass as he scrambles by you, swatting at your hands like they're annoying little flies.

Danny purposefully ignores your teasing as he shuffles past you, forcing himselfnotto irritably growl to the way you giggle under your breath while trailing after him, clearly amused by his obvious annoyance. He softly tuts at the sound of your breathy laughter before attempting to peek just outside of the bedroom doorway, his fingers carefully clutching onto the squeaky wooden frame with the utmost caution. There's not enough room in the doorway for two people, so you quietly push past him and bravely mosey on out into the hallway, knowing that the heavy shadows enveloping the hallway will keep you hidden from sight.

As you pass by Danny, he lightly brushes his hand across your lower back, flexing his fingers against the material of your coat-- a silent plea for you to be careful, to not be stupid. You pause for a moment, but only to place your hand on his knee and give it a reassuring squeeze before moving on and pressing yourself up against one of the walls that make up the long, dark hallway. You try not to move too much once you're plastered up against the wall-- the paint is cheap and coming off in large chunks. Not only that, but the particular paint that was used has made the wall textured-- if you shift around to much, the harness beneath your coat could scratch against the wall and make a noise, thereby alerting the brothers to your presence.

Thankfully, you don't have to worry too much about making too much noise.

Now that you're actually inside the house,you can actually hear the music and it's loud. Although you highly doubt that the fast-paced bouncy rock music currently playing is reallythe kind of music that Jacoby or Jeffrey would listen to, they still have it playing at max volume. It's much more likely that they just tuned the radio to a random station to make some noise and fill the silence, as you've come to learn that people who have anxiety, think too much, or feel guilty about something tend to do that a lot; they'll turn on the TV, or the radio, all in hopes of drowning out the voices of their demons inside their head. That's more likely the case-- the brother's have turned the bass up so high that you can feel it in your chest, thrumming deep inside your chest cavity like a second heartbeat. Its kind of annoying, actually.

You and Danny are about to discuss a plan of attack when you hear one of the brothers--Jacoby, you think-- excusing himself to go to the bathroom, saying he's got to take a leak. The sound of Jacoby drunkenly sliding off the couch sends you and Danny reeling back into the bedroom to hide, sprinting as fast as the both of you can while making as little noise as possible. While Danny dives for the closet, you attempt to do your usual thing and hide in the darkest corner of the room-- but Danny refuses to give Jacoby even the slightest chance of spotting you as he drunkenly shuffles past the doorway, which is why your boyfriend snatches you by the literal collar around your neck and yanks your confused ass right into the closet with him.

Right on time, too-- Jacoby just walked past the bedroom door.

Even though you can hear Jacoby shuffling around while knocking things all over the bathroom in a drunken haze, you know better than to make a peep in your current situation-- but that doesn't stop the confused gurgle bubbling up in your throat when you are pulled deeper into the pitch-black closet. Danny suddenly snaps his hand up to cover your mouth at the sound of your confused squeak, and you cannot help but be mildly impressed that he was able to locate exactlywhere your mouth is, considering the black hood over you've got tightly pulled over your face makes it hard to tell where all your facial features lie. It doesn't help that there is absolutelynolight in the closet. The doors are so slotted right up against each other, not even thesmallest slivers of moonlight could peek through. Normally you'd be grateful for all of the shadows to hide in, but your lack of eyesight makes your other senses feel like they're on f*cking fire.

With a volatile co*cktail of adrenaline and hypersensitivity rushing through your veins, you suddenly become much more aware of your surroundings. You can feel everythingand it is absolutely maddening. You've never really wanted to be able to feel the thick strands of saliva trickling down the back of your throat, but here you are, trying not to cough or gag into Danny's chest as he pushes himself up against you. He's not helping you in the slightest, but you can't really get mad at him for doing something he's probably not even aware of. When Danny is on a case or on a hunt, he isfocused.He's not thinking about sex, he's not thinking about work, he's thinking about one thing and one thing only; stabbing somebody in the chest and racking up his body count.

You know his reasoning for pushing himself against you the way that he is; he's trying to make the both of you take up as little space as possible, just incase somebody decides to fling open the closet doors for whatever reason. He's probably not even truly aware of the position that the both of you are in; you caged right into a corner, with his hands wrapped around your ribcage and his thumbs mindlessly rubbing against the undersides of your breast. You'd be chest-to-chest if it wasn't for the camera harness strapped on your torso, you're almost sureof it.

Wait. Is he--? No. God damn it, he's wearing that sexy ass musky cologne of his that you absolutely adore.Damnit, Danny!

"Stop it." You quietly murmur, just loud enough for Danny to hear. You can't see him, but you know he heard you because his deep, steady breathing hitched at the sound of your quiet whisper. If you know him-- and you do-- he's probably looking down at you with his head tilted to the side, staring at you with a bizarre, quizzical expression tucked away behind his mask.

"What-- What the hell are you talking about? I'm not going anything." He scoffs quietly and shuffles his weight from foot to foot.

With a dramatic roll of your head, you reach your hands down and place him directly on top of his. The mindless rubbing of his thumbs comes to an immediate halt, and you let out a sigh of relief at the feeling of the warmth previously pooling in your loins finally starting to slowly ebb away like the receding tides of the ocean.

"Oh." He says rather lamely after realizing what he had been doing. "Sorry."

"Don't take it personally. I just can't focus on the task at hand with you rubbing on my titt*es. You're distracting enough as it is, but when you rub up on me like thatwhile wearing what you know is my most favorite out of all your colognes, you can't expect me to behave. Just saying, babe." You quietly murmur, carefully reaching up to lightly pat him on the chest.

Danny chuckles into your ear, well aware of the way his hot breath fans across your earlobe. His plush lips curl into a dirty smile when he feels you shiver up against him, but he has no time to comment on the matter when the both of you hear Jacoby begin attempting to drunkenly wash his hands-- alone, and vulnerable. An opportunity like that is just too good to pass up, so the both of you silently slip your way out of the dark closet and slink back into the center of the moonlit bedroom.

There are no words or commands exchanged between the two of you. It's like the both of you are able to read each other's minds, because all it takes to get you moving is a sharp nod of Danny's head. Perfectly in sync, the both of you scamper out of the bedroom and quickly press yourselves against the wall on either side of the bathroom door, stilling yourselves and becoming relatively statuesque. With your knives in hand, the both of you watch the brass-colored doorknob for the slightestbit of movement, lying in wait for your prey to expose themselves.

And as soon as it does, all hell breaks loose.

Jacoby just barely manages to swing the bathroom door open before you and Danny storm your way in, rushing and lunging at the scrawny twig of a man like two wild hell hounds on the loose. Danny reaches him first, wrapping his hand around Jacoby's throat and squeezing it in a death grip to keep the bastard from screaming. Knowing that Danny will need his both of his hands at one point or another, you quickly spring into action.

While Danny roughly manhandles the skinny little man-baby twisting around in his grip, you slip up behind victim #1 and snap your hands around his wrist, forcefully bending and twisting them into a veryuncomfortable position behind his back before reaching into your pocket and slapping a pair of handcuffs on his wrists.With Jacoby's hands restrained, you begin to work on that mouth of his. A discarded pair of dirty boxers lying on the bathroom floor catches your attention, so you bend down and scoop them up off the floor before shoving them deep into Jacoby's mouth. He violently gags, much to your annoyance-- then again on second thought, you'd probably gag too if a pair of dirty, dusty boxers were just shoved into the back of your throat.

Jacoby's violent gagging attracts the attention of his brother, who calls out to him out of concern. Danny whips his head around to stare at the open bathroom doorway when he hears Jeffrey's drunken slurring as he tries to pry himself off of the couch to come to his brother's rescue, and angrily cursing under his breath the moment he hears Jeffrey's heavy footsteps begin to stomp down the hall. Without any hesitation, your boyfriend spins back around to face Jacoby and promptly sparta-kicks him in the chest. Jacoby thrashes around in the air as he falls, swiping several bottles of shampoo and body wash on his way down. His head makes contact with the corner of the bathtub with a sickening crack, knocking him out in the process.

Danny spins around and attempts to charge out in the hallway in a blaze of fury, but you place a hand on his chest to keep him from running out there. When he twists his head around to look at you with an inquisitive tilt of his head, you wave your knife around in the air."Letme catch that one for you, baby. Consider it a late Christmas gift."

Danny doesn't get any time to consider your request, because Jeffrey comes sprinting around the corner as soon as you finish your statement. You muse that Jeffrey must not be as drunk as his brother Jacoby, because he actually manages to widen his eyes in shock and let out a shrill cry of 'HOLY f*ckING sh*t' before attempting to drunkenly sprint away. Within mere milliseconds, you're already chasing after him and are quite easily able to catch up to him.

He doesn't make it very far. After all, you are notorious in the media for your deathly quick reflexes and ability to think on your feet, and considering that both of the brothers have been drinking all night, it's not too much of a surprise that Jeffrey was only able to make it a couple feet before you managed to catch him by the hair.

Jeffrey cries out in pain as you roughly grab a fistful of his blonde locks, digging your fingers deep into the roots of his hair before aggressively cranking your hand back like you're revving a chainsaw. He falls flat on his back just as you expected he would, screaming and crying in agony as a result of your violent hair pulling-- but that might have something to do with the fact that you ripped an entire fistful of hairout of his scalp.

You can actuallyfeel his hair tearing from his scalp as you throw your entire weight into your arm, helping you rip off quite a sizeable chunk of both hair and flesh from the top of his head. After he drops to the floor in agony, Jeffrey squirms around in pain and openly sobs as he clasps his hands over the bloody bald spot on his head to keep it from bleeding too much. It doesn't work-- thick globs of blood trickle down his face like waterfalls, and he begins to loudly panic at the sight of it all. You're trying to inspect the gory patch of hair clenched in your fist, but Jeffrey's crying manages to irritate you enough to cast a disinterested glare at him from over your shoulder.

You stare at him through narrowed eyes from behind your mask while he whimpers up at you from his spot on the floor, still trembling at the sight of his own blood. You roll your head around on your neck before letting out a disinterested sigh. After doing an about-face, you begin leisurely strolling over to Jeffrey, who curls up into a protective ball and quietly weeps into the bloody palms of his hands. You stroll up beside him and silently regard him for a moment before bending at the waist and grabbing what little hair he has left on his scalp.

As you begin to drag him down the hallway by his hair, he starts to scream bloody murder and thrashes around while pitifully pleading for his life. Danny pokes his head just outside of the door to investigate the screaming, and nearly falls over in shock at the sight of you lugging a full grown man down the hallway like he's a child.

"Holy sh*t." He squeals before giggling evilly as he steps out from behind the doorway and begins quickly strutting over to you. "Merry f*ckin' Christmas to me!"

You let out a breathless chuckle before carelessly tossing the security guard at Danny's feet. Jeffrey hits the floor in a heap, grunting in pain as he reaches up to massage his bloody scalp and will the pain to go away. It is now that you realize Jeffrey must be woozy from blood loss or something along those lines, because it takes him a minute to notice that the man known as Ghost Faceis staring him down. He predictably opens his mouth to let out a terrified screech, but Danny kicks him in the face, knocking the bony bastard out cold.

Danny slowly crouches down low beside Jeffrey's body to inspect your handiwork. Pride swells in your chest as he takes his time checking out the bloody patch of missing hair and skin on the top of the scraggy security guard's head before turning to look at you. When he nods approvingly at you, your mouth splits into a wide grin behind your mask.

"My dick and I are in agreement; you're definitely wife-material." Danny says in a playful tone that makes you laugh. He slowly rises to his feet and tilts his head to the side before cooing adoringly at you. Wriggling his index finger at you to come closer, he steps around Jeffrey's body before purring a simple command at you;"C'mere, mama."

A nervous giggle slips out from between your lips as you hesitantly begin to make your way over to where Danny is positioned. The familiar feeling of your skin burning returns once again as you approach him, well aware he's analyzing every single move you make, from the way your shoulders shift, down to the way your hips swing. He's patient-- he waits until you're close to him,too close to escape,before suddenly wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you up against his body with a husky growl.

With a playful shriek, you begin to squirm around in Danny's grasp as his dark, devious laughter echoes through the house. He allows you to 'fight' with him for several minutes before using your shoulder as leverage to help nudge his mask up enough to expose his mouth. Your body stills and tenses when you feel his bare lips press up against the outline of your ear hidden behind your hood, but his sweet whispers eventually bring your levels back down to normal, which in turn cause your muscles to relax.

"We should elope, you and I." He murmurs into your ear, half-joking, half-serious. "How soon do you think I could convince you to let me put a ring on it?"

"We've been dating for a month." You retort with a soft laugh. "Where-- Where did this even come from?! It's way too soon!"

"Hmmm, I don't know about that. Maybe it's too soon for a normal couple, but we're not exactly normal. Besides, didn't you say that technically we've been together about 6 going on 7 months, if you count the whole 'stalking each other without realizing it' part? Were those not yourexactwords?" He hums in your ear with a pleasant lilt in his voice, lips curling into a wide smile when you scoff and roll your head back onto his shoulder with a sigh of defeat.

You cannot help but let out a soft, breathless laugh and slowly lean into him, before then twisting your head around to look at him, even though half of his face is obscured by his mask. Even though you know he can't really see it, you smile at him regardless. "I guess I can't really apply normal rules to our very not normal life and relationship. ...Do you really count those months as part of our relationship?"

"That depends. Do you?"

You huff and roll your eyes before carelessly shrugging your shoulders. "As annoying and as much of a pain in the ass as you can be... I might."

Danny's rich, dark laughter spills forth into the air, making your tummy involuntarily flutter with excitement as he flashes you the smuggestsmirk you've ever seen. "Good. That'sfantasticto know, I'll take that into consideration in the future. Now get to stepping-- we've got to tie these bastards up before they wake back up. You grab this idiot, and I'll grab his idiot brother."

"YesSir." You reply with a playful salute, smirking when Danny lets out a lusty snarl at the use of his preferred honorific. His body moves on it's own-- his arm reaches up and around your torso, hand coming up to cup the side of your jaw and hold you still. Excitement forces your lungs to sharply inhale when Danny hooks a finger under your hood, lifting it up just enough to expose your jawline so he can nip at it, marking it up with hickeys and love bites.

"You need to learn to keep your hands to yourself, or you're going to be the absolute deathof me." He hisses before pulling your mask back down and wrenching himself away from you, marching off towards the bathroom while the heavy stomps of his boots echo through the house as he continues to seethe.

Your lips curl into an impish grin as you place on your hands on your hips. "But baby, I didn't even touch you! I only called you Si--"

"SHUTHEf*ckUP." He roars from inside the bathroom, his echoy voice leaving no room for argument.

The grin on your face twists into a wicked smirk as you watch his irritated ass bounce towards the bathroom, chuckling to yourself as you bend down and loop your arms underneath Jeffrey's shoulders before attempting to lift him up off the ground. You very nearly dropthe unconscious bastard when you hear Danny struggling with his owncharge, indignantly sputtering and complaining about-- pretty much everything.Can you stop yourself from laughing at Danny's peeved state? Of course not. Can you help him? Sure.

But not without harassing the man a bit.

You wait for a minute before calling out to him, mostly just to hear him suffer but also to see if he actually needsyour help. A quiet giggle escapes you when you hear Danny let out a series of angry curses as he knocks over what sounds like sticks of deodorant, bottles of body wash, shampoo, and a plethora of other things. Ultimately, you decide that your poor baby doesneed your guidance.

"Danny, honey?" You call out in a sickly sweet voice. "Do you need mama's help, dearie?"

"f*ckIN-- YEAH. FINE. WHATEVER." He curses irately before storming his out out of the bathroom, nearly slipping and falling just outside of the bathroom door in the process-- thankfully you've already stood up and are there to catch him in your arms. He's thankful, but that doesn't stop him from ripping himself away from you, though! A barrage of weak, petty slaps hit your arm, making you cackle as you gently release your hold on Danny, giving him ample opportunity to scamper away from you like a grumpy housecat after being harassed by it's owner.

"Don't touch me!" He hisses, rushing over to Jeffrey's body so he can start dragging him towards the living room.

"But I--"

"NO TOUCHY." He barks, hurrying his efforts to drag the offending security guard lying in the hallway to the living room, just so he can get away from you. Quiet snickers settle in the back of your throat as you make your way into the bathroom, only to forcefully rip through your nostrils as a violent sort at the state of disarray the bathroom is in. Danny lets out a pathetic whine of embarrassment, having heard your snort from the living room, but you try to suck it back down and restrain your giggles while stepping aroundthe pile of bottles in the little bathroom.

As you're making your way over to Jacoby, the bastard stirs and starts to wake up. He's still folded in the tub, ass up in the air with his legs plastered against the wall, but he flops over in an attempt to get back to an upright state. And though the sight of a drunken, concussed scrawny man baby trying to get out of a slippery bathtub might be amusing, you don't let it distract you to the point where you forget to do your job-- Danny is upset as it is, it would be catastrophic if you were to let Jacoby get the upper hand for even a second.

Jacoby continues to try working on sitting upright, but he becomes deathly still after he feels the icy bite of a cool metal blade being pushed against his throat. He justbarelyturns his head, his eyes straining to look at at the living mass of shadows beside him-- or at least, that's what his concussion is making him see.

Aware that Jacoby is feeling like 50-Shades-Of-f*cked-Up, you wave your hand back and forth across his eyes, causing him to squeeze them shut and let out a painful groan as his brain struggles to fix his blurry vision. Eventually Jacoby opens his eyes back up and rapidly blinks for a couple minutes, clearing his vision just enoughto get a decent look at your face. He freaks out and tries to squirm away, of course, but the blade to his neck keeps him relatively well-behaved.

"Hi, sugar. How's your head feeling? You thumped it quite hard, I'd imagine it's a little tender." You sweetly coo at him while applying a little more pressure to the blade, just barelynicking his skin enough to make it bleed. Jacoby whimpers and tries to wriggle away, but you reach a hand up and wrap it around his throat, squeezing it a little to remind him who is in charge. The clingy latex material of your gloves causes the small slice on his neck to sting which in turn makes him hiss, but the gentle 'shh-shh-shh' of your voice convinces him to be quiet-- as does the knife in your hand, currently being waved around in the air in a threatening manner.

"Why are you doing this?" He fearfully whimpers, making you quietly chuckle in sick amusem*nt.

"Just for funsies." You sweetly reply, letting go of his neck to 'lightly' pat him on the head with enough force to make him cry out in pain. Moments later, tears start swelling up in the corner of his eyes, causing you to gleefully gasp and squeal in absolute delight. "Oh sweetie, are you crying! Aww, how cuuuuute! You know, I think I know somebody who'd loveto see this. BABE! Check out this f*ckstick!"

There are no oncoming footsteps that can be heard from the hallway to help signal that Danny heard you. The only indication that he heard you is the sudden appearance of the man in question as he silently rounds the side of the doorway, his footsteps barelyaudible to the untrained ear. You look at him over your shoulder, excitedly waving him over with your unarmed hand before pointing at Jacoby, who has started bawling out of pure fear.

Danny is interested. You can tell, his body language is speaking volumesabout his mood and what he's thinking. At first, he came strolling in here like you were in trouble or needed help, but now his footsteps are slower. Practiced. Leisurely.Like he's got all the time in the world. You know better than to foolishly assume he's being careless or something of that nature; he's observing. Taking his time to take in and absorb the scene before him; your hand beckoning him closer, your blade to Jacoby's neck, and-- are those tears?!

He wanders closer towards you, and places a hand on your shoulder before kneeling down to your level. His gaze is completely focused on Jacoby's wet cheeks, which makes you smirk with pride. Danny lifts his other hand and reaches it out towards the terrified man, who attempts to twist his head around and look away to hide his embarrassment from the both of you. Danny doesn't let him-- his strong hand cups Jacoby's jaw and forces him to turn his head back around and look at the both of you.

A quiet breath falls from the mouthpiece of Danny's mask while you hum and cuddle up against your stoic, cold-blooded lover, watching closely as he thoroughly inspects the tears running down Jacoby's face. He subtly nods his head in approval, rewarding you with an affectionate nuzzle as he moves to rest his cheek atop your head.

"Wonder why he's crying." Danny muses before tilting his head down a little to get a better look at you. You can practically hear the smile in his voice as he coos at you; "Maybe mommy didn't hug him enough as a kid. What do you think, gummy bear?"

"I think that maybe mommy didn't wipe his ass enough as a kid." You innocently mumble back, lips spreading into a devious grin behind your mask after Danny quietly chuckles at you in response. Then he stops mid-laughter and suddenly snatches Jacoby by the throat, before roughly hauling him up onto his feet as the both of you stand up. Jacoby's eyes nearly pop out of his skull in fear as he tries to claw away at Danny's hand, but the feeling of your boyfriend's fingers squeezing around his windpipe compels Jacoby to think twice about his actions.

DannyliftsJacoby out of the tub by the throat before dangling him mid-air in front of you, thrusting the teenager-sized adult in your direction. He gives you a direct order, spoken in a gruff tone that leaves little room for discussion; "Cuff him."

It takes you a solid minute to start moving, as you are shocked and mildly aroused by the display of strength Danny just exhibited. After all, he just lifted a full grown man into the air-- granted it's a man that's the size of a scrawny teenager, but that's still at least 90 to 100-something pounds. Plus, he did it so easily-- Didn't even break a sweat. No wonder Danny can toss you in the bedroom the way that he does.

You slip up behind Jacoby and procure a set of metal handcuffs one of the many inner-pockets of your trench coat, before clasping it onto Jacoby's wrists and tightening them more than is likely necessary. He twinges and whines in complaint, but a swift kick to the back of the calf makes his mouth slam shut.

"Move it you overgrown twig, before I decide to chop your ass up and turn you into mulch." You growl, shoving the gangly tree of a man past Danny and out of the bathroom. Blubbering hysterically, Jacoby is forced down the hallway with the blade of your knife digging into his back. He's crying hard enough to the point where his vision is completely obscured by his own tears, and fails to spot a discarded beer bottle lying on the floor. His bare foot makes contact with it, and it rolls underneath him, sending him reeling towards the floor.

Danny catches Jacoby by the back of the shirt and pulls him back up before he can hit the floor face-first. "Easy, idiot. You almost broke your f*ckin' nose."

"Th-Thanks." Jacoby mumbles, sounding slightly breathless after having his life flash before his eyes.

You can practicallyhearDanny's eyes rolling around inside of his skull, and it takes everything inside of you not to cackle when he cuts a quick glance at you-- and even though you can't see his face, you just know he's annoyed.

"Don't thank me--" He huffs with a shake of his head, as the three of you walk towards the end of the hallway. "--the only reason I stopped you from breaking your own nose is because Iwant to be the one to break it."

Danny's blunt words make the icy cold chill of reality wash over Jacoby, who immediately starts to bawl as the three of you walk into living room. However, you ignore his pathetic blubbering in favor of checking out the sparsely decorated space, fitted with nothing more than a giant flat screen TV and a TV stand, a radio, two worn-out leather recliners, and a scratched up wooden coffee table. Closer inspection of the coffee table reveals a plethora of beer bottles and 3 or 4 different types of ash trays, all completely filled to the brim with cigarette ash.

You scrunch up your nose in disgust due to the putrid, lingering stench in the room-- the entire house is utterly filthy, and smells of desperation, stinky man, and piss, but the worst of it appears to be coming from right here in the living room. And although your lungs are currently being deprived of precious, clean oxygen, you keep marching onward, guiding Jacoby over to a pair of wood chairs that have been placed in the center of the living room, one of which is occupied by hisvery unconscious brother. You also note that there's also a distinct lack of loud, bumpy music-- Danny must have turned down the volume while he was in here, strapping Jeffrey to the chair.

Jeffrey is still conked out from before, slouched over in his seat and profusely bleeding from his scalp, and also from what you believeto be what little is left of his smashed up nose. He's alive and 'well' as can be expected, but you recognize Danny's handiwork when you see it... and while you do admittedly feel a little disappointed that he started the fun without you, you can also understand why. After all; Jeffrey was the one who supposedly instigated this whole thing, and disrespected Danny's title as TheGhost Face by making childish jokes. It only made sense that Danny was going to want a littlebit of extra payback before therealfun starts.

God-- Danny is probably going to tear the poor f*cker apart. Well, at least this will be a fun home video for the both of you to look back on!

Jeffrey's hands appear to be cuffed and bound behind his back, where a set of thick zip ties are keeping his cuffs bound to the weak, wooden frame of the chair he's been sat in. You shove his brother, Jacoby, towards the empty chair beside his unconscious form, intending to tie Jacoby up the same exact way that Danny tied up Jeffrey. However, your charge panics upon seeing his brother's bloody face and automatically assumes the worst of his brother's state-- death.

"Jeffrey?! OH GOD, NO! JEFFREY--"

"Shut the hell up! Jeez, you're f*ckin' whiny! What is it with you people, thinking that it's okay to scream and wail when you've got a gun or a knife pointed at you?" You hiss while angrily pressing the blade against the thin cotton fabric of his t-shirt to keep him compliant, while also trying to curb your murderous urges-- for the time being. Jacoby shuts up for the most part, but whimpers and whines, scared for his life to the point where his bottom lip quivers in fear. "Look kiddo,your brother isn't dead. His face is just a 'little' f*cked up. Now you're going to be a good boy for me, and if you don't, then I just might f*ck up yourface with some emergency plastic surgery. Kay? Now stop crying, and sit the f*ck down."

Jacoby stops wailing-- but doesn't move.

Rolling your eyes in annoyance behind your hood, you roughly twist him around and shove him into the chair, holding him down by pressing your knife against his neck and resting a heavy hand on his shoulder to keep him steady, while Danny slithers up behind him and begins to zip-tie him to the chair. Tears run down your prey's cheeks as he glares down at the floor, but you press the flat edge of your blade against his chin and try to force him to look up at you. It doesn't work the way you want it to-- his head moves, but his eyes don't. They stay trained on the hardwood floor, and only flick away from it after you press your knife against his neck again.

"People like you annoy the sh*t out of me." You mutter under your breath, shaking your head back and forth before shifting your gaze back to Danny, who has managed to silently slip back beside you after having just finished zip-tying Jacoby to the chair. "How are the zip ties holding?"

"He's not going anywhere. Neither of them are." Danny calmly hums, having sensed the familiar firein your voice that he is intimately familiar with. He's not f*cking stupid-- Danny has often told you that messing with you when you're in a bad mood is liken to poking a sleeping bear, and while normally he admires your spitfire personality, he also knows that you, like any human being, have your limits. You're likely not in the mood to be toyed with at the moment, because men like Jeffrey and Jacoby are the exact reason you started doing what you do.

So while he normally would sassily tell you to check the ties yourself, he decides it's better just to keep his mouth shut this time around.

(Background Music. Highly suggested that you listen to it at least once to know what's playing in the scene.)
(Hot Tip: Right click on the video and select the 'loop' option to loop it. You can do this with all YouTube videos on a PC.)
(Special thanks to my bestie for helping me chose the song.😘)

Danny finds interest in the radio after it starts to play a softer, slower beat-- different than the bouncy rock music that was playing earlier. The DJ's song choice is interesting to say the least-- the tempo is slow, heavy, and sits deep within your chest, pounding like war drum inside of your ribcage, mostly due to the decent bass system that the radio has been equipped with. Maybe it's the adrenaline rushing through your veins, or maybe it's the dark urges pulsing deep inside of your brain making you hallucinate, but you swearthat your heart, even for but a split second, beats in perfect rhythm with the tune. Like a ghost, the first couple beats haunt you-- and Danny as well, it seems.

As if bewitched by the music, he becomes entranced by the notes pouring out from the radio, and slowly turns his head to look at you. Maintaining eye contact, he slowly backs up towards the stand that the radio is on, and his fingers quickly find the volume knob and turn it up. The black eye-cutouts of his mask stare at you the entire time while he slowly raises the volume to an appropriate level-- one that will block out any, uh... unwanted feedbackfrom dumb-and-dumber during your and Danny's 'play-time.'

If you listen close, you canalmosthear the sound of Danny humming along with the tune under his breath as he steadily approaches you, twisting and twirling the blade over his knuckles with practiced ease. With each rise and fall of the singer's pitch, Danny's deep vocals rises and falls with it, copying and mimicking them to the best of his ability. His voice is pleasant-- comforting. This is no love ballad, but it might as well be with how electrified the air feels all of a sudden. You're not complaining though-- it's a good feeling. Addictive.

It's odd how... safe Danny can make you feel. You know that he is most certainly not the kind of man you should seek comfort in, but you can't... help yourself. He and his twisted charms are quite alluring to you, and he's become your strange addiction as a result of those charms. He is the sweet candy syrup that you can't help but lick off your fingers, even though it very well might get you killed in the end-- but you likeit that way.You like the danger, the risk, the appeal of loving a man as cruel and as wicked as Danny can be, and it feelsso damn goodto have something unique that no one else could ever evendreamof obtaining. After all, Danny is not the kind of man who falls in love... and yet, you've got his heartstrings wrapped around your little finger like it's a god damn leash.

There's something to be said about a woman who has that kind of power over a man such as he-- and now that you think about it, you believe that you're beginning to understand exactly what Danny meant when he asked earlier if it made you feel powerful to know that you were appreciated by him. Not only had you caught The Ghost Face's attention, gone toe-to-toe with him and survived which is impressive in itself, but you also had the balls and the audacity to make him fall in f*cking love.

Withyou.

How such a large man is able to meander around while managing to make little to no noise is a mystery to you, but it's impressive nonetheless-- and then you quickly remember that Danny has the skill required to be able to choose the amount of noise he makes while moving about. For example; if he doesn't want to be heard or found by his prey, they'll never find him. But if he wants to put his prey on edge, then they just mighthear footsteps coming from the other side of their house. Playing with his victim's heads is kind of his thing-- making them wonder where he is, if the phone lines were cut, could they manage to dial 911 before getting stabbed, that sort of thing. He likes to treat these kinds of situations like they're a sort of game, strictly to amuse himself.

He always wins, too.

Danny is above average in height--Danny is above average in many ways, but that's beside the point. You've always been aware of the way his frame towers over your own, but it's especially obvious whenever he just standsin front of you at his full height, shoulders rolled back and arms hanging loosely at his side while he just stares down at you. It's so hard to tell what he's thinking behind that ever-present mask of his sometimes, but you'd guess he's probably making all kinds of calculations, playing out 'what if' scenarios in his head on loop. He always takes the time to think before he acts-- each strike he makes is premeditated, each step is calculated, every single breath is thoroughly planned. Everything he does is done with purpose. Everything.

So when he offers his hand for you to take, you know better than to think that he's asking you to dance.

When you accept his hand, he pulls you close-- right up against his body, but you only linger there for a moment before he carefullyspins you around to look at the Mills brothers. His chest is firmly pressed up against your back as his gloved fingers begin to roam the expanse of your shoulders. Eventually his fingers grasp at the fabric of your trench coat, clenching into fists before gently slipping it off your shoulders and placing it off to the side, where it won't get in your or Danny's way. It's better this way-- not only will your expensive coat get ruined, but the camera strapped to your chest is now able to see the entireliving room instead of meager peeks and slivers of light.

Hot breath seeps through your mask and tickles your skin, making you realize that Danny has, one again, pulled up his own mask. Plush lips are pressed to the corner of your masked jawline, where they trail down to the play collar strapped around your neck. Your eyes flutter shut behind your mask as Danny presses a series of slow, soft kisses to the collar, as if he were blessing it or praising it for simply existing. You know the truth behind the simple gesture-- it's his unspoken way of thanking you for being obedient. For listening, following his orders, and being a good girl. His good girl.

Distracted by the unspoken gratitude being repeatedly pressed against your collar, your fingers hang limp from your wrist, inadvertently allowing Danny to remove the knife clutched in your hand with ease. He doesn't take it away from you completely-- he just temporarily tucks it away in one of his many his pockets before placing his own blade into the palms of your hands. When his lips pull away from your collar, (much to your disappointment) your hazy focus turns to Danny's blade clenched in your grip, the handle still warm from the constant flexing of Danny's fingers.

While Danny works on pulling his mask back over his face, you take the time to admire his knife. It's a beautiful blade. You can't deny it-- it's very shiny and well taken care of, but that is partially due to the lengths that Danny goes to preserve his equipment. The man is meticulous and can often be found lounging around the house late at knife, polishing the blade with a several bottles of potent metal cleaners to both preserve the blade andto wipe away any lingering DNA left behind by an unfortunate victim. But as pretty as the knife is, you cannot help but wonder-- why did he take away the blade in your hands and replace it with his own? You have no idea. You haveabsolutely no idea, and your confusion only grows when he gingerly intertwines his fingers with yours, seemingly deciding to hold the blade with you.

"Danny? What are you doing?" You quietly mumble, eyes completely focused on the way that his large hand have seemingly engulfed your own. "The only time you ever get behind me is when you're trying to shove me out of your way, surprise-hug me, or bend me over the nearest flat surface. What's going on in that evil little head of yours?"

He laughs darkly at your blatant suspicion, before going on to happily hum as he drops his head down and nestles his chin into the crook of your neck. "Relax, cupcake; I'm just enjoying the moment with you. Remember; I've watched you kill a few before, but I've never actually participated with you. This is new territory for the both of us, and it's our first time... 'collaborating' together. I want it to be special. I also wanted to be able to look back at, hence my reasoning for asking you to wear the camera harness tonight."

"That's kind of romantic, in a sick and twisted kind of way." You snort with a playfully disbelieving shake of your head. "Although, I also think you just like watching me get angry and taking it out on other people, because you're a sad*stic ol' f*ck and think it's funny when people scream."

"That also might have something to do with it. Maybe. Probably. Definitely." He purrs devilishly.

Quiet laughter rumbles in your chest. "Okay you perverted psycho, then why are we both holding onto yourtactical knife?"

"Both the groom and bride always cut the first slice in the wedding cake together." He says with a wicked chuckle which only increases in volume after you groan in agony. "Aw c'mon, cupcake! It'll be fun!"

"Was that a jab at me for getting angry about the 'wife' thing earlier tonight? It feels like that was a jab at me." You sputter indignantly, going on to grumble and call Danny some choice names under your breath that makes him laugh, which in turn makes you throw your head back and childishly stomp your feed. "Danny, stop f*ckin' laughing give me some direction! What do I do?! Who do I go for?! If you don't tell me, I swear I'm gonna--"

"Sssshhhhh! Shh-shh-shh, don't think about it! Just pick an idiot, and stick the knife in their guts!" He squeals out, bouncing around behind you like an excited little kid.

With a roll of your eyes and a shake of your head, you walk over towards Jeffrey and decide to do just that.

You and Danny work together in tandem when handling the knife; pulling it back before forcefully thrusting it right into Jeffrey's gut, whose adrenaline rush forces him awake with an excruciating scream of pain. Jacoby hysterically sobs in the chair beside his screaming brother, tears running down his cheeks and thick, viscous jelly-like snot dripping down from his nose. Blood spills and spits out of Jeffrey's wound, splattering all over his stomach, your hands, and the blade handle. Your eyes widen as your chest deeply heaves with adrenaline and excitement, each heavy breath fueled and egged on by Danny's maniacal evil laughter.

"That's my girl." He smugly purrs into your ear, sounding as proud as can be. A forceful breath rips it's through your chest, expelling out into the open air as anger fills you up in exchange. All the frustration from tonight builds up before it hits you like a ton of brick-- the bad hunt, Danny's sh*tty boss, the boss's sh*tty secretary, the stupid security guards not doing their jobs-- you can suddenly feel the weight of everything on your shoulders. The adrenaline rushing through you causes you to tremble and bounce around on the tips of your toes, while dark, impulsive thoughts course through your mind like raging rivers.

But thereis something that feels a little... off.

As you're gearing up to kick some ass, you swear on your mother's life that you hear a voice in the back of your mind. You know it's not Danny-- the man is too busy laughing his ass off as Jacoby and Jeffrey scream, while pathetically blubbering, begging, and pleading for you to spare them, to show them sympathy and mercy. Your body tenses, coiling up like a snake getting ready to strike.

"You have no mercy to give, no sympathy to spare. You should kill them. Crush them." urges the strange voice, whispering sweetly to you from the deepest, darkest recesses of your mind. It goes on to mutter some sort of strange language that you seems to invigorate you. The voice pulses from deep inside the most primal part of your brain, and gives you one final order; "Slay the maggots!"

You obey, without a second thought.

With an animalistic snarl, you twist your and Danny's combined grip around on the knife before swinging it down, viciously slicing Jeffrey's chest from the top of his right shoulder, down to his left hip. He-- like any human being about to get their ass murdered by a couple of serial killers-- screams in agony before trying to arch and squirm away out of range when you twist the blade back around to swing again, only to fail once more and choke on his own breath when the blade is buried in between his 7th and 8th rib.

It is at this moment that Danny lets go of both your hands and the blade, just so he can take a step back and watch in wonder as you completely let loose on the Mills brothers. However, feeling him pull away from you causes your body to stiffen on instinct, and you quickly whip your head around to stare at him over your shoulder. He holds up one of his hands with the palm facing you-- a silent gesture to let you know that everything is alright.

"Relax, babe." He warmly murmurs to you under his breath as he mindlessly reaches into one of his pockets, only to procure what you recognize to be his favorite camera. "I just wanted to take a couple pictures of you. Some for the police... and some for myself. Is that alright, baby?Can I capture you in the heat of the moment?"

"That's wrong on so many levels. You're such a f*ckin' creep." You harshly spit out, sounding completely disgusted as you quickly glance back at Jeffrey, only to look right back at Danny mere seconds later. "...Let me just pose really quick."

"Yyyyeessssss!" Danny hisses excitedly while wriggling around in place, jostling around his camera lovingly nicknamed 'Philly' within his grasp. With a dark chuckle of amusem*nt, you re-wrap your fingers around the handle of the blade before brutally ripping it out of Jeffrey's ribcage. Blood splatters everywhere, including onto your jumpsuit. The warm body fluids soak into your clothes as you walk around the brother's chairs.

Danny quickly gets into position, rushing over to stand directly in front of the brothers with his camera primed and held at the ready. Meanwhile, you have managed to slip up behind the brothers, and bend your waist at a slight angle. Hooking your arms around the brother's necks, you hold them close and force them to nuzzle their cheeks up against your own. A subtly whispered threat gets them to obediently stare into the lens of Danny's camera, though they outright refuse to smile and choose to glare and pout instead.

That's fine. You can cut a smile into their jaws if you deem it necessary.

Danny immediately gets to work, snapping candid shots of you left and right as you move about at your own leisure. You take your time, paying absolutely no mind to the consistent clicking of Danny's camera as you play around around with poses, making some of them playful, some sexy, and some just downright cruel. Your boyfriend's tactical knife never leaves your grasp either, and you make sure to use it in every single shot that he takes-- buried into a body, or otherwise.

After some time, Danny starts to insert himself into the photos, taking more selfies of the both of than what is probably necessary, but you do not complain as you are quite ecstatic to be involved with this whole ordeal in the first place. Besides; Danny is in his element and is just so happy to be taking pictures with you, it feels like it would be cruel to ask him to stop so you can get on with the murder. So you let him keep taking pictures.Polaroid after polaroid is tucked into his pocket, and it isn't long before his camera beeps, warning him that he has about 15 shots left before he completely runs out of film.

Cursing under his breath, he begins to sulk like a despondent puppy dog before turning to you, tucking his prized camera back into his pocket-- for now. Assuming he's ready to get on with the plan, you wipe the blood off of his precious tactical knife before holding it out to him in offering, but he shakes his head and politely refuses to take it from you.

"Keep it, for now. I'll use your blade tonight." is all he gives as an explanation for his strange refusal of his prized possession, before removing your stolen blade out of his pocket and carelessly twirling it around in between his fingers, like a bored student playing around with a pencil.

You hum in acknowledgment while quietly nodding your head, taking the time to subtly look him up and down. You meet his gaze once more before lazily tilting your head to the side, carelessly pointing to the exhausted brothers with the tactical knife loosely held in your fingers. "That's fine. So how do you want to deal with thing 1 and thing 2? Gouge their eyes out? Eviscerate them? Choke them with their own intestine? What are we doing here, babe?"

Danny regards the bruised, bloody brothers with a sharp twist of his neck, and quietly observes them while still mindlessly twirling your blade around in his hand.He's thinking.

It is at this time that Jacoby, the more cowardly one of the two Mills brothers, chooses to slowly lift his head and look up at the toweringman before him. His bony apple bobs in his neck as he tries to swallow down his nerves before shakily whimpering out; "You... you could always let us go. We... We won't do nothing or tell nobody! We'll keep our noses clean! Ri-Right, Jeffrey?!"

"Shut up, you idiot! If I could smack you right now, I would." sneers the older brother before twisting his head around to defiantly glare up at theoh so infamousGhost Face. "I ain't begging for my life! You don't scare me!"

"Is that why you ran away after you found us cornering your unconscious brother in the bathroom?" You ask with a slight tilt of your head, grinning and giggling evilly behind your mask when Jeffrey turns his heated, hateful glare towards you. "What? Don't like hearing the truth? Man, you didn't even hesitateto take off running. You took one look at us leaning over your brother andbooked it like you had saw the cops. puss*."

Jacoby's eyes grow tenfold in size before he whips his head around to stare at his brother with a heartbroken look of utter betrayal. "Jeffrey, is she telling the truth? You didn't even try to save me...? Why?"

"Because he'd rather have a dead brother than be dead himself." You deadpan with a lazy shrug of your shoulders. "Why else?"

Jeffrey irritably clicks his tongue against his teeth and rolls his eyes. "Don't listen to her, she's just lying, little bro--"

"I have no reason to lie." You reply rather plainly, keeping your voice perfectly level as you maintain eye contact with the younger sibling. "I would receive no benefit from lying to you. Now your brother,on the other hand, does. Should you think I'm not telling the truth, you die thinking of him as a hero and not recognizing your brother as the worm he truly is. It's a pity, really; He ran away so quickly. Didn't even look back, just kept on drunkenly stumbling down the hallway. Oh, and if you don't believe me... I've got it on tape. I can rewind it to you show, if you so desire. Go on. Call my bluff."

Hot, angry tears start to flow down Jacoby's cheeks, as he cuts a sharp glare towards his loathsome swine of an older brother. "This is your fault. YOU HEAR ME?! This is YOUR fault! All those years-- karma caught up to us! I TOLD YOU IT WOULD! Now we're going to die!"

"Shutup,Jacob! Shut up! Just shut up! We didn't do a damn thing wrong!" Jeffrey snarls angrily.

What starts as a quiet chuckle behind Danny's mask eventually turns into full on evil little giggles. When his wicked laughter comes to a complete stop, you slowly turn your head around to look at Danny, watching on with great interest as he willinglyremoves his mask in front of his prey/coworkers before wordlessly passing it to you for temporary safe keeping. Once your delicate fingers grip the mask and cautiously pull it from his grasp, his hands return to his shroud, where they work together on pulling open the main flap of his coat. When he removes a thick manila folder and a set of round, black-rimmed reading glasses from inside of his coat, your eyes nearly fall out of their sockets.

Reading glasses? Well this is certainly going to add on to your list of fantasies. sh*t.

You cradle his precious mask close to your chest, watching in wonder as he wordlessly slides the round reading glasses onto his face. Then he shifts his gaze toyou,those dark amber eyes of his making you shiver. He holds his smoldering gaze, staring at you as he delicately licks the tips of his fingers before he then slowly turns his full attention to the folder clutched in his grip. He begins thumbing through the thick stack of papers, humming and muttering unintelligible noises under his breath as he flips through the files.

The brothers stop arguing long enough to finally lookup,catching a blurry glimpse of an all-too familiar face. Their eyes widen in absolute horror as they realize that the man standing before them is someone that they falsely considered to be a close friend, Mr. Jed Olsen. Much to your surprise, Jeffrey is the first to panic at the realization that he had been working with Ghost Face all this time-- and then hefreaks the f*ck outwhen he remembers that Jed Olsen had a wife. A wife that he took to the party with him earlier this evening, a wife that escorted him out of the buildingrightafter he and his brother has finished laughing over a demeaning remark he had made about Ghost Face.

Oh f*ck. Oh sh*t.

Jeffrey squeals like a pig while violently squirming around in his chair. "JED OLSEN?"

"Mmmyes, hi, hello, I've come to kill you." He hums while dismissively waving his hand in annoyance, not even bothering to spare his coworker a single glance as he immediately goes back to flipping through the file in his hands. "And it seems to me that you actuallyhavedone something wrong, Mr. Jeffrey Mills. Severalthings wrong, actually. Lets see, we'll start with-- Ah, Lori McGovern! 14 years old, came from a good family full of hard-working Christians. You went to Roseville Junior High with her all those years ago. Popular girl. Active in the community, active in the church-- all around a good gal!"

"How does he know that?" Jacoby asks with a trembly voice. "You said our records were cleared. How does he know her name?"

"Shut up, Jacob--"

"HOW DOES HE KNOW HER NAME, JEFFREY?! YOU SAID NO ONE WOULD KNOW."

"Honestly, it wasn't that hard to find. A quick search on the dark web told me everything I could ever need to know about the both of you. See, your criminal records weren't expunged like you thought they were-- Mr. Lambert doesn't have that kind of power, I'm afraid. Anyway, I'm getting off track. Let's go back to Ms. McGovern-- she was your first victim, wasn't she? You and your brother cornered her while she was walking home from school. You were 15, Jacoby was 13. You cornered her, tied her hands and legs up with some cheap zip ties you stole from the gym teacher, and touched her in places that 15 and 13 year old boys have no business touching a 14 year old girl. You 'shared her', didn't you?Didn't you? ♫♪ Don't deny it! ♫♪" Danny says in a sing-song tone. "♫♪ It'll make meANGRYif you lie! ♫♪"

"I think you should make him angry." You cheekily interject. "It'll be fun to watch. For me, at least."

"Shut up,slu*t. Don'tspeakunless you're spoken to!" hisses the oh-so-aggressive and oh-so-irritated great and wonderful Jeffrey Mills. "The only time you should ever open your mouth is to suck a dick anyway, bitch!"

"That's a little ballsy coming from somebody who ran from a slu*tlike me, bitch." You mockingly coo while reaching over to 'playfully' pinch and wriggle his nose, only to yelp when he angrily snaps his teeth at your fingers. You pull your hand away before he can manage to successfully bite you-- thank god-- but your pride is a little wounded. And although you're more than able to handle this situation yourself, it appears that Danny has decided enough is enough-- at least, as far as Jeffrey's mouth is concerned.

The manila folder is promptly thrown into the air, scattering victimology and record reports all across the tiny living room as Danny storms towards Jeffrey quick as a flash. Jeffrey has barely any time to react before Danny roughly catches him by the jaw, hatefully glaring down at the poor excuse of a man. The burning heat behind your boyfriend's dark, swirling amber eyes makes Jeffrey shrink underneath their intensity, nearly pissing himself in the process. You watch on with great glee-- it had been your goal to piss Jeffrey off to the point of running his mouth, which would undoubtedly make your boyfriend pop off like a rocket. You just hadn't expected him to react with such... ferocity.

"You don't get to call her a slu*t or a bitch." Danny quietly murmurs as he stares Jeffrey down, slowly drawing out your stolen blade once more to hold it up against Jeffrey's throat. "The only time she gets called a slu*t is in the bedroom when she's sucking on my dick, and the only time she gets called a bitch is when she's annoyingme.Notice the consistent factor in both of those statements? I'mthe only one involved. Not you.So unless your name isDanny Johnson,keepherout of your mouth."

Although he is scared, Jeffrey still opens his mouth to retort-- no doubt intending to say something cruel and demeaning about your existence as a woman and a human being. Danny, however, has had enough of this petty back and forth between you and his pathetic, groveling coworkers. They've gone too far for his liking-- not only have the disrespected his name, but now they've disrespected you,the only shining light he has in his life.Enough is enough.

Danny doesn't pull his arm back to gather up enough force to stab Jeffrey through the neck-- his muscles are already spring loaded, allowing him to push the blade of your knife through the space just behind Jeffrey's chin with great ease. You squeal at the sound of wet gushing blood spurting all over the place, and slap your hands over your mouth to keep yourself from gasping in shock at the sight of the metal blade peeking out of Jeffrey's mouth.

Jacoby promptly screams at the ghastly sight of his brother being stabbed through the jaw, and you can't blame him-- Thick, viscous blood is currently pooling around Jeffrey's tongue, filling his mouth and spilling over his lips and into the back of his mouth, causing him to choke and gag while his throat makes the most obscene gurgling noises. It's a nauseating and utterly repulsive sound to most folk, but to you and Danny, it's like music to your ears.

Unable to tear your eyes away from the gruesomely gory scene, you watch as Danny viciously snarls down at Jeffrey, baring his teeth and clenching his jaw as he buries the blade even deeper into his flesh. Jeffrey's eyes are wide and bulging like they're about to pop, vaguely reminding you of one of those bulgy-eyed goldfish you'd find a pet store. You can't help but let out a cruel-natured giggle at the wide-eyed surprised expression on his face-- had he truly expected to get away with this? Was the man truly so ignorant and so blindly confident in his abilities that he actually had the audacity to believe he would be able to get away with disrespecting you? The sheer idea makes you laugh-- loudly.

Danny thrusts the knife deeper into Jeffrey's neck, before twisting his head around to look at you. The dim light of the living room casts a glare onto his reading glasses, which hang low on his nose. Droplets of blood speckle the lenses and his skin, and it takes everything within you to stop yourself from reaching out and trying to wipe the droplets off of his pretty face.

His dark eyes are narrowed into thin slits-- his pupils pulse with a complex and an enigmatic rage, but you do not panic. He might be angry, but Danny has sworn to you multiple times that he would never lash out at you in the heat of the moment while working together tonight. He could never bring himself to close to hurting you like he had when you two first 'met'. He could never do that again, he could never harm his precious girl.

Not you. Not his cupcake.

"Darling, pet of mine. Sir needs you to do him a favor." He hisses at you through bared teeth, the use of his honorific making you stand at attention. Your eyes zero in on his face, and all it takes is a quick nod in Jacoby's direction for you to understand what he wants-- silence the screaming sibling. So without so much as a hum or a nod of acknowledgment, you set Danny's mask off to the side, speed across the room, and rush over to Jacoby with Danny's tactical blade tightly clenched in your fist.

Jacoby panics at the sight of your rapidly approaching form, and only has enough time to let out one final scream before you strike him-- hard. Carbon dioxide rips it's way out of his lungs as it is expelled from the sheer force of your blade being buried into his stomach. He hunches over and tries to scream again, but nothing comes out.

You and Danny pull back your blades in perfect unison before forcefully driving your blades back into the Mills brothers, making them both let out a unified cry of anguish. Like clockwork, the both of you expertly cut their flesh, repeatedly stabbing and slicing their torsos to ribbons. Blood spurts and splashes everywhere, filling the air with the stomach-churning scent of raw, rich iron. It's displeasing to the nose, but you and Danny are too focused to even stop to crinkle your noses.

Despite having been betrayed by his older brother, the only thing that Jacoby is able to spit out other than unintelligible nonsense is a slurred version of his brother's name, even as the metal blade of your knife clicks and scratches against the bones of his ribs with each and every premeditated strike. He screams for him, begging him for help, for his brother's protection, but Jeffrey is a little... preoccupied.

Since Danny had not cut Jeffrey's vocal chords or slit his throat when he stabbed Jeffrey through the jaw, Jeffrey is still able to scream-- and scream he does. He screams the entire duration of Danny's torture session, spitting out thick globs of blood all over the place as he thrashes around in absolute agony, pleading and begging with "Jed" to show him some mercy as he repeatedly drives his blade into his body. Danny doesn't respond to his alter-ego's name, nor does he show Jeffrey even asliverof mercy. He just tears and flays Jeffrey's flesh, grunting and huffing as he exerts enough force to crack open Jeffrey's ribcage like he's cracking open a pistachio shell.

Your hands are slick with blood and gore, making it hard to get a good grip on Jacoby as he squirms around in his chair. Frustration floods your senses, making you kick the chair over so you can straddle Jacoby's stomach. Jacoby opens his mouth to scream for help--again--but gags when you promptly shove your blood-slick fingers into the back of his throat. He violently coughs before choking on his own breath when you suddenly wrap your hand around his throat. You lean in close-- close enough to the point where he can smell the breath mints you had been munching on prior to your arrival at the brother's beach house. You slowly tilt your head, watching Jacoby's eyes widen in fear as you press the blade against his neck and begin steadily applying pressure.

And then he does something that pisses you off;he begs you to stop.

"Did you look them in the eye when you assaulted those girls?" You quietly murmur while blatantly ignoring his question, loosening your fingers justenough so that he'll be able to speak.

"What?" He stupidly asks, as if he hadn't heard you when you knowdamnwell that he did.

Tightening your grip on his neck, you snarl and try not to lose your patience just yet. "Did you look them in the eye?! Did you look them in the eye as they begged you to stop?!"

Jacoby fearfully stares up at you in complete silence, but lets out a terrified yelp when you lift his head just enough to roughly slam it back down against the back of the chair. Though pain wracks through his brain at the feeling, he manages to spit out an answer in his frightened state; "Yes!"

You suddenly go very still. "And you still didn't stop? You knew you didn't have their consent, and you still didn't stop?"

Jacoby scrunches his eyebrows together and rapidly blinks in confusion "Wh-What? I... Well.. no..."

A loud cracking of bone echoes through the living room as you thrust the tactical knife into his ribcage and twist it with enough force to separate it. As he screams, you slowly bend over the blade and press your clothes lips against his earlobe and whisper;"Then why would I show you mercy?"

In a fit of rage, you rip the blade out of his ribs and begin to repeatedly stab him in the face. With so many blood vessels close to the surface, it's no wonder that blood begins spraying everywhere, completely drenching your entire jumpsuit. Thankfully you pause long enough to keep Danny's camera from getting sprayed, but you go right back to stabbing as soon as the blood stops spurting all over the place with wild abandon. Danny's blade clicks and scrapes against his skull, occasionally getting stuck every now and then after you drive it a little too deep into Jacoby's brain matter. The adrenaline coursing through your veins gives you the brute strength required to rip it out before going right back in.

At one point, Danny turns his attention away from Jeffrey and nearly sh*ts himself at the sight of you justrapidly stabbing awayat what little is left of Jacoby's brain. By now most of the innards of his skull have been either sliced to ribbons or smashed to a macabre smoothie, but you don't seem to have realized that Jacoby isn't just dead, he isdeaddead. Concerned for your well being, Danny breaks away from his own corpse and rushes over, calling out your name as he approaches. You don't react to the use of your birth name, nor do you react to the use of his preferred pet name, 'Cupcake'. You just. keep. stabbing.

Eventually he places his hands on your shoulder and loudly hollers your name, expertly bouncing back with you twist around and slice his blade through the air. Danny quietly praises whichever god is watching over him after he watches your bladenarrowlymiss slicing him across the crotch, and looks up at you. He can't see your face from behind your hood, but he doesn't really need to-- with the way your chest is heaving with each raspy breath, he knows that you're probably wide-eyed and in a daze after coming back from whatever dark corner of the world your mind just wandered off to.

"Cupcake, that's enough." He quietly murmurs, holding his hands up in surrender as he slowly lowers himself to the ground, ignoring the way his knees squish against the blood-soaked brain matter littering the hardwood floor. "Jacoby is dead. He's... literallyall over the floor. I imagine there's very little blood left in his body-- the guy probably doesn't even have enough blood in his body to pop a boner at this point. I'd say that's morethan enough. Baby girl, he's dead. Dead-dead. Deader than dead. It's okay."

His knife falls out of your limp hand, clattering to the floor and landing in a pool of blood. While it would normally irritate him to see his knife being treated in such a negligent manner, he lets it slide but only because he's secretly worried aboutyou.After all, as stated before-- people with history of rape and sexual assault, like Jeffrey and Jacoby, were the reason you started doing this whole serial killer gig in the first place, as far as he understands... and judging by what little remains of the brothers, Danny muses that something about their history as rapists and sexual assaulters must have especially triggered you.He doesn't even want tothinkabout what must have happened to you to make you react in such a... volatile manner.

His poor baby girl... what happened to you?

You start to come down from your high, and end up crashing face-first into Danny's broad chest. When he your arms wrap around your waist and your nails dig into his shroud, he is... taken aback, to say the least. It's not very often that you become emotionally or physically exhausted enough to the point where you just crash into his body without asking for permission first, but he can't really say that he minds it. In fact, he kind of likes it. So he wraps his arms around you without complaint, and holds you close.

But just as he's starting to get used to the feeling of you tiredly snuggling into his chest, you start to giggle and pull away from him. The disgruntled expression on his face is clear to see, and you can hear the irritation in his voice when he asks "What's so damnfunny?"

When he sees you giggling and pointing over his shoulder, he twists around and follows your line of sight, only to pale several shades when he find's Jeffrey's corpse cracked wide open like a walnut. It's clear to see that Danny really did a number on Jeffrey, if his completely shredded chest is anything to go by. There are bones sticking out in almost every direction, and organs can be spotted through the many slits, and little peek-a-boo holes and windows in his torso. He's even wearing his own intestine as if it were a scarf, though Danny doesn't exactly remember how that came to be. Honestly, if Danny wasn't so embarrassed that he lost control of his temper, he might've found that funny.

After he slowly turns his head back around and sees you struggling to keep yourself from losing your sh*t, he lets out a quiet, annoyed sigh of defeat. As you snort and snicker behind your hand, Danny quietly mumbles; "...Okay, so I might've gone alittleoverboard. Sue me!"

You promptly throw your head back androar with laughter.

The drive home had been quiet enough to the point where you peacefully passed out in the passenger seat of Danny's car.

Although the Mills Brothers were now dead, there were some final touches that had to be made before the both of you could leave. You had to leave your signature message up on the wall, and Danny had to go through all of the polaroid pictures that he took earlier and decide which ones he wanted to leave behind for the police to find. Not only that, but he also had to use the remaining 15 shots on his camera so the police knew that the both of you were there together.

It was his least favorite part of the job, but only because he wanted to be selfish and keep all of the photos for himself. There was actually a point where you had to come out and help him decide which ones to pick-- you see, you been rinsing the blood off of your gloves and equipment in the brother's washroom so that you didn't get blood all over the interior of Danny's car, when Danny himself had called out to you from his spot on one of the leather recliners in the living room. You came out and found him pouting like a child, arms crossed over his chest. When you had asked him what was wrong, his irritable expression softened as he held out the thick stack of polaroid pictures for you to take.

"I can't figure out which ones I want to leave for the police. You look so pretty in all of them, I want to keep them all for myself." He had bashfully admitted, making your heartmeltinto putty on the spot. "Can you help me figure out which ones to take, and which ones to keep?"

And help, you did. You left 30 polaroid pictures lying around the brother's corpses for the police to find, and your favorite of them all had to be the one where you and Danny were posed in front of the bathroom mirror, all suited up with your masks back on to hide your identities. In the photo, Danny had his arms wrapped around your waist and had his chin resting on your shoulder, while you took the actual picture. You had even painted a bloody heart onto the mirror, just to make the nature of your relationship perfectly clear to the public and pig-headed police.

Thankfully, you happened to take two photos of that particular pose, so you and Danny didn't have to actually give that photo up.

So after washing up and leaving some the cryptic clues for the police, you and Danny left and were finally ready to go and cuddle like you had wanted to dohoursago.Thank god-- the days events were finally starting to affect Danny, and by the time the two of you were halfway home, exhaustion had run his ass over like a Mack Truck. He could barely keep his eyes open, but forced himself to stay awake anyway so that the both of you could get home safely, where Jinx was probably eagerly awaiting the arrival of her beloved human parents.

He hadn't even realized you had fallen asleep until he pulled up into the driveway of the house.

After switching off the engine and removing his keys from the ignition, he turned his head towards you with the intent of telling you that you were both finally home, only to have his heart nearly implode inside of his chest at the sight of you peacefully snoozing in his passenger seat, using his bloodied shroud as a makeshift blanket to keep yourself warm. It was too cute, he couldn't stop himself from melting into the driver's seat-- he even had to clench his fist and bite down on his knuckles just to keep himself from squealing too loudly, lest he risk waking you up.

Damn it, why were you so f*ckingcute?!

Danny allows himself several minutes to permanently burn the image of you snoozing in the passenger seat of his car into his brain. But once he's satisfied and moves he moves to exit the car, his leg accidently bumps into the shroud, and the heavy shifting of "Philly" in his coat pocket makes a lightbulb go off on his head. He turns his eyes back to you, and sinks his teeth into his bottom lip as he slowly reaches into the pocket of his coat and pulls out Philly. When he turns the camera on, choirs of angels sing in his head when he sees he has enough film for just one more shot.He doesn't hesitate to take a picture of you, and quickly tucks the polaroid picture into the pockets of his jeans, along with the rest of the polaroid pictures.

You're perfect.

Happy and content with his handiwork, Danny finallyclimbs out of the car and rounds the side of the vehicle. Swinging open the door, hecautiouslyscoops you up into the safety of his arms, curling you close to his chest before locking the car doors and kicking them shut. Thunder and lightning crackle in the distance, urging him to waddle to the house as fast as he can without waking you up. Danny muses that somebody must be watching over him, because he makes it to the porch justas it starts to downpour. He looks over his shoulder, staring up at the heavens as they crack wide open and spark with thunder and lightning, and a quiet breath of relief falls from his lips.

Thank god you two managed to make it home before the storm hit.

After letting out another tired sigh of relief, Danny comes waltzing into the house moments later with you safely curled up in his arms and the housekeys clinking around in his hand.

It is at this time that Jinx finally wakes up from her super long cat nap, stirring at the familiar sound of jingly house keys and the front door being locked back up. Bells of recognition ring in the back of Jinx's mind as se stretches with a silent yawn, her fluffy little paws just barely poking out from underneath the warm blazer that dear ol' dad had left for her to use as a blanket. She slowly sits up onto her fluffy haunches but doesn't move to hop off of the kitchen island, and instead chooses to wait for the familiar sound of heavy boots being kicked off.

When she hears them clatter to the floor, she knows she is safe. She knows that mom and dad are home. They made it back.

After hopping off of the island with a soft trill, she regally struts her way out of the kitchen and into the living room, sticking her tail high up into the air while slowly scanning her surroundings. As she walks into the living room, she spots Dad stretched out on the couch with Mom curled up on his chest. Her tail puffs up a bit at the sight-- that's her sleeping spot!

...Well, Mom does look tired. Perhaps she can find it within her royal heart to share. Just this once.

Jinx quietly approaches the both of them, her royal fluffy feet quietly padding across the hardwood floor as she slowly makes her way over to the coffee table. Once within range, she crouches down and wriggles her regal hiney before leaping up onto the table and slowly walking over to the edge of it, where she sits down, curls her legs inward, and tucks her royal toe beans underneath her body.

Now that's interesting. Is Dad cuddling Mom while she's asleep?

It would appear so. Danny's honey-colored eyes are completely focused on you as you continue to peacefully sleep while pressed against his chest, his fingers slowly trailing up and down the length of your spine for what must be the umpteenth time. He pauses when they reach the base of your spine, and lets out a quiet breath before allowing himself to press his nose into your hair and deeply inhale your natural scent. He wraps you up in the safety of his arms, unaware of Jinx's gawking. He doesn't really care about her judgmental staring, if he's honest-- he's too caught up in you.

A rare smile curls onto his lips as he reaches a hand up towards your head. His fingers gently tangle themselves into your sweaty locks of hair before gently combing their way through. His heart soars-- this is where he belongs. This is where he wants to be. Right here, on this couch, with you in his arms. His teeth sink into his bottom lip as volatile emotions akin to adoration and affection flood his system, threatening to send him into a state of sensory overload. He's not sure why, but--he kind of wants to cry?He won't allow himself to, but-- the feeling is there.

Whatever. No one is looking.It'd be okay to shed a tear or two, right?

Regardless if he's willing to allow it or not, sparkling droplets of raw emotion sting at the corner of his eyes, painfully tugging on his taut heartstrings while emotions he's never felt before rip him apart from the inside out. He closes his eyes as a single tear dribbles down his cheek, sharply inhaling at the feeling before frantically rubbing away at it with the back of his hand-- god forbid you wake up and see him getting emotional. Nope.Not happening! Hell no! ...Still, you are asleep. You're likely not going to wake up until noon tomorrow. Perhaps he could let himself softly sing to you, again.

He's done it before. Matter of fact, he does it fairly often-- if not all the time. It's just another one of his dirty many little secrets; when you're dead asleep and there is no chanceof you waking up, he often catches himself holding you close, gently running his hands over the curves of your body as he sings sweet little love songs into your ear, all in hopes of influencing your dreams. At least-- that's how it started out.

You were prone to having horrible night terrors, and Danny found that holding you close and quietly humming in your ear helped calm you down. When you woke up the next morning without any recollection of the night before, Danny grew ballsy. He pushed the envelope and started singing little songs that reminded him of you, lullabies that he had grown up listening to, and other personal tunes that helped shaped him into becoming the man he is today. He does it almost every night now, regardless if your having a night terror or not. He'll never tell you, though. He'd rather you keep believing he's this cruel hard-ass, and not find out that he's secretly a hopeless romantic that would walk to the ends of the earth for you.

So after gathering up his courage and lightly tapping you on the nose to make sure you're dead-asleep, he allows himself to relax and moves to rest his cheek against the top of your head. Drawing in a quiet breath, he allows himself to hold you close while singing a small excerpt of a song that reminds him of you and how he feels about you.

"♫♪ Somehow I found a way to get lost in you.
Let me inside, let me get close to you.
Change your mind, I'll get lost if you want me to.
Somehow, I found a way to get lost in you...

In you...

The pain of it all, the rise and the fall.
I see it all in you.
Now everyday, I find myself saying
'I want to get lost in you'

I'm nothing without you...

Somehow I found a way to get lost in you.
Let me inside, let me get close to you.
Change your mind, I'll get lost if you want me to.
Somehow I found a way to get lost in you.
A way to get lost in you...

After he finishes singing to you for the night, Danny quietly sniffles while bringing a hand up to wipe away the tears freely running down his cheeks, only to freeze up when he finally notices Jinx perfectly perched on the coffee table. She's sitting up on her haunches now, her big bright orange eyes staring at him in an almost knowing manner. Her gaze isn't as mockingas it usually is, but it definitely feels smug-- it's almost as if she knows that she happened to walk in on something that nobody was supposed to witness, something that was very personal, and very private.

Danny's soul leaves his body as Jinx calmly leaps off the coffee table and onto the arm of the couch, before climbing up onto the back of the couch and making her way over to where dear ol' mom and dad are all sprawled out. Danny thickly swallows down his nerves as Jinx approaches, tail sticking straight up in the air while gently swaying back and forth. When she arrives, she slowly curls her feet back in and tucks her royal toe beans back under her body, staring at Danny the entire time.

Then as if to mock him, she calmly bows her head towards, as if offering to keep what she saw a secret as long as he pets her.

He quietly snickers under his breath and sniffles one more time before reaching a hand up to gently scratch her behind the ears. She purrs and dramatically leans into his touch, nuzzling his fingers as hard as she can while he just snorts and shakes his head.

"You sawnothing.Do you understand me, young lady? You witnessednothing."

"Mmrrrrow!"

"Good girl. Daddy will give you a bougie can of wet food in the morning for your cooperation."

"Purrrrrrr...."

♥