#i like to imagine that after this danny and steve just curl up in a house with doors locked and shades shut for a week and cry on each othe

[shehungthemoon]

Just dumping my Ina Paha thoughts here. 🙃

First of all I did NOT know it was the 100th episode going into this, so i was very confused watching the montage at the end lol

I also had to click out and make sure I didn't click the wrong episode when the Pilot started playing at the beginning. When I heard Danny's voice on the phone instead of Hesse's I swear I got whiplash

It's filmed so well (bar where they reshot the pilot where Steve gets Danny on the phone instead of a dead dad, in which they literally forgot to put the same filter over the scene to make the stitching coherent) and I absolutely love the camera work they did with the white-room and the video projections. It felt very much a level above normal network television cinematography, especially the parts where Steve's going in and out of the hallucinations.

Steve finally FINALLY killing Wo-Fat was so cathartic, it should have happened ages ago but I'm willing to look past all the dumb ways he survived just to allow this incredible ending to his story.

Ina Paha gave me Kono doing... this. I owe Grace Park my whole life. Pls costuming department put her in hot pink again 💗

yes, it was a Steve episode. but Danny REALLY shone, first as the only resident Actual Detective figuring out what happened to Steve by the tire-tracks, rampaging through the compound steadily and efficiently and knocking people off without a pause, and then in Steve's mind shooting Hesse's kneecaps off?!?!?! That was CRAZY and probably not suppose to be as hot as it was and definitely made me want an ex-mobster AU immediately. Basically I have a competency kink and really like badass!danny shit 😊

Seeing Chin's long hair again made me swoon

My jaw dropped when I saw Jenna! I think it's really interesting that Steve still thinks of her so much, and I was surprised that she showed up in both the actual dreams and the montage. I definitely underestimated how much she impacted Steve's life, it seems, and I hate that we'll never hear him address that and we'll only know about it inadvertently like this.

(hand over the heart for how lori got like. one team shot. poor girlie.)

⭐I took the montage at the end as being flashbacks and memories that Steve was having as he left the compound. Looking at it through that lens certainly makes one unwell.

Obligatory squeal for Adam appearing just to save the day :))) look below to see the love of my life! :)))))) ⬇⬇⬇

Of course, the obligatory mcdanno bullet(s). It writes itself! The way Danny said Steve's name so small and broken when he found him. The way they look at each other on the ground, the pain their faces. I need an official apology statement from Scott and Alex for it. Can we talk about what flashes by during the montage at the end? (IMO it being Steve's memories.) So much Danny.

The first thing is Danny and Steve's first meeting. Jfc. The showrunners milk it SO MUCH and who's complaining

The big, rocking hug. The hands clasping underground. Gracie of course. And then Danny collapsing from the bioweapon, which to be honest I was NOT expecting to see at all--it felt like a genuinely strange choice to include in there and it really ONLY makes sense if you go along with all that being what Steve's remembering. Even then, I was surprised to see it, so basically this is Hawaii Five-Oh making mcdanno gayer than even I was wanting them to be. Steve still thinks about that? From so long ago? Even with so many other close calls in between then and now? Good fucking lord ok then loverboy that's WILD. Canon accepted ig this show is just pure whump.

Danny goes through all of this just days after losing his brother and killing Reyes. JFC can we please address that. I need a 30k introspection fic to let me into this man's mind rn.

The Wo Fat v.s. Steve fight at the end was INCREDIBLE. I would love to give the choreographer's hand a shake, it's some of the best work I've seen on television in a long time. It was impressive for a procedural like this. It was long and physical and you truly didn't know what the outcome was going to be; it everything that their built-up relationship deserved for a conclusion. It also happening with a Steve coming off of hours of torture and drugging was crazy (guess we finally know who would win a PVP if they were both at full strength!). That being said I was really impressed with Wo Fat's capabilities and physical prowess, I was not expecting it to be so even and close to the line. I actually jumped when Steve LIFTED him up into the lighting fixture. We do not talk about Steve's (Alex's???) raw upper-body strength enough.

Anyway. Electricity in the water play. The physicality hell that this gif below is ⬇. Fire extinguishers and loaded needles. Crazy martial arts. Chair and buckets (holy shit did y'all see the force with which Wo Fat SHOT that bucket?????) flying. All's fair. I loved it.

The shot going right through the forehead, clean. I don't know how to put into words why that's so monumental to me but it is.

The mystery bad lady was SO intriguing, I wish we got more from her... How does she know Wo Fat? Why was she entrusted with all that information on him and Steve and especially Doris? Absolutely where did she come from, what was her name? Why did I have a huge huge hot crush on her? All important questions. (Goes to show that h50 CAN give us some more genuine badass, not just there to date someone women characters, just explicitly choose not to. I'm holding out for Ellie to remain platonic so hard right now.)

Almost forgot Danny in that black Hawaiian shirt. Will be whimpering over that image forever. The whole episode I was trying to focus on the underlining betrayal mystery they were laying out but every time my brain started working too hard Scott with his stupid waist and those flower patterns just started flashing into my head

Again, are you seeing this:

I'm unwell and so so happy.

H50 you're a gem when you want to be.

#just a post for me really #h50 #ina paha #i like to imagine that after this danny and steve just curl up in a house with doors locked and shades shut for a week and cry on each othe #steve mcgarrett #mcdanno #hawaii five 0 #i've been going thru h50 chronologically very very slowly for years but have watched p much most of the show on reruns #but god am i so so glad that i just so happened to never catch this one. i'm so glad I watched it when it was suppose to be watched

[aliidarling]

No bc like imagine you are in a trial right right, but you spawn with ONLY a slightly big tee shirt and panties and so Danny (ghost face) is like GOOD GOOGLY MOOGLY and tickles you where the sun doesn’t shine :3 only do this after you do my Ada request though .. (just kitten I know that will never get finished)

IM SORRRYY I GOT LIKE HALFWAY DONE WITH THE ADA ONE AND LOST MOTIVATION I SWEAR ILL FINISH IT SOMETIME SOON 😓🙏🙏

dark paradise

DANNY JOHNSON X fem!reader

nsfw content — please scroll if uncomfortable!!

summary: you’re spawned into the trial in tiny pajamas for the new event, and your favorite killer very much likes your outfit hehe

warnings: nsfw obvi, p in v, rough sex, creampie, butt slapping a little, degrading, stab wounds(NO WOUND FUCKING), steve harrington…😟

nsfw content below!!

You felt absolutely humiliated, to say the least. The Entity had decided to wreak havoc on you and send you to a trial in nothing but some shitty horror tee and the tiniest shorts you’ve ever worn.

Being sent to the Red Forest made it even worse, your shirt all wet and damp from the musty air and rain, making the fabric cling onto your skin. Your teammates weren’t to shy with their obvious glances at your chest and how your ass was hanging out.

“Quit it.” You huffed, scowling as you worked on a generator alongside Steve. Fucking Steve, one of the biggest flirts around here.

He rolls his eyes and does a mocking surrender of his hands, before grinning at you.

“It’s not my fault you got sent here looking like a model! Like damn, girl.” He snickers, nudging you with his hips. You glare at him, trying to hold back your laugh.

“It’s not funny!” You whine, curling your knees to your chest slightly to help yourself with the cold. You were shivering. Feeling the wet floor press against your butt had you cringing, but you’d rather have a mud-covered ass then hypothermia.

“It kinda is,” He hums. Another few moments pass as the two of you work on the generator, an eye out for any killer. The trial had just begun so you had no idea who it was yet. A small part of you hoped it would be Danny.

You had no idea what you and Danny were, but he would always let you live, as long as you have him some kisses and maybe a little hook up session. And you weren’t even against it, he was good with that monster in his pants and his words.

Steve suddenly makes a mistake and next thing you know the generator blows up in both of your faces, making you yelp and back up. You turn to him slowly with a pissed off expression.

“Seriously?”

He offers a weak grin.

“Can you blame me? You look very distracting—“

He gets interrupted when suddenly a knife is pushed through his back, making him scream and fall forward. You gasp loudly, stumbling back and hugging yourself. You shiver as the wet rain making your hair sticks to your face, your thin shirt hugging your breasts.

“Don’t talk bout her like that, fuckin’ moron.” The tall man huffs, the black robe and shrieking mask making you relax. You relaxed only for a moment before realizing he was about to kill one of your friends.

“Danny!” You stepped forward, trying to get him to stop from stabbing the shit out of Steve. “He was just joking, c’mon.” You huff, frowning up at the taller man.

He gazes down at you, eyes under his mask widening as your barely covered form presses against his body. From his angle he could see down your shirt, your nipples poking through the shirt brushing against his chest. His breath hitched as he reluctantly steps away from the bleeding out Steve, before turning back towards you and grabbing you around the waist.

“Let’s go, now.” He grunts, dragging you towards the cabin.

Barely twenty minutes later, he had you bent over one of log tables in the cabin, his cock deep inside your small cunt. Your shorts hung off your ankles, your panties pushed to the side.

His grunting was loud and raspy, his hands holding you around your waist to steady your trembling body. He pushed his cock as deep as he could with every thrust, his large fingers rubbing your skin.

He had made sure to bunch your shirt above your chest, not even bothering to fully undress you. Seeing you all damp with those tiny pajamas sticking to your soft skin had him all hot and bothered, with no care in the world other then shoving himself inside you as soon as possible.

“Shut up, whore.” He grumbles quietly, panting from behind you as he keeps thrusting his hips into you from behind. His grip on you was tight, bruising probably.

“Danny…” You moan softly, eyes rolled back to the back of your sockets, mouth hanging open each time his tip presses against that sweet spot all the way in the back of your pussy. It felt so good, getting slutted out by this masked murderer.

You couldn’t even care that your friends blood was getting all over you. All that mattered was how he felt, inside you and on your skin. How his cock hit deeper then anyone ever could, and how he whispered such dirty things that had you clenching down.

“Dressed like a fuckin’ slut,” He grunts, his thrusts hardening. He starts to gain speed, groaning at how tight you were around him, like a fucking anaconda.

“Don’t act surprised that you got bent over, bitch. You knew what was gon’ happen the second you saw me, dirty little slut, flashing those tits at me—“ He reaches one of his hands to grab the back of your head, pulling your hair back as his thrusts grow harder and faster.

“Dannnnny!” You mewl from under him, panting and moaning as he kept going. He grabs one of your legs and puts your knee up on the table, managing to shove his cock deeper inside you. He hums at how you clench down from the new angle, a mocking grin on his face.

“Good lil’ girl, keep takin’ my cock like this and maybe I’ll let you cum.” He snickers darkly.

“Y-Yes, mhm, I’ll be your good girl.” You sigh heavily as he pushes himself deeper once again, having your eyes daze at his good it felt. You were so thankful the generator in the cabin had already been completed, or else the fear of someone walking in would of been haunting you.

His hand roughly slaps your butt, making you whine and clench down. He groans at that and let’s go of your hair, going back to holding your waist and pushing your body down into the table. His thrusts continue, your moans leaving your throat like a broken record.

“I-I’m gonna cum, please, please, can I?” You whimper desperately, hands scratching and clawing at the able in hopes of finding something to hold onto. You could feel your orgasm nearing, making you clench down greatly around his cock, earning a raspy moan from the man behind you.

“Y-Yeah, fuck, let it go sweetie.” He mumbled, his thrusts growing sloppy as he works on making you cum.

Without another second, you let out a shaky cry and cum over his cock, your walls milking him dry. He leans down, pressing his chest against your back to muffle his noises. He releases his thick load inside your pussy, his hands reaching up to push down on your shoulders.

A few minutes pass as the two of you relax from your high. Once he’s felt that you’ve calmed down enough, he slowly pulls out, hissing at the feeling. He stares at your wet pussy and how both your cum dripped out, a small chuckle leaving him.

He steps back and tugs your panties back up, making you cringe as he makes sure none of it falls out of your hole.

“..Danny… C’mon—s’yucky!” You whine as he helps you out your clothes back on. His touch was surprisingly gentle.

“Shut it. Lucky I didn’t cum all over your face.” He gives you a little pat on the cheek. You roll your eyes before reluctantly smiling and pulling him in for a kiss. He hums and kisses back, his large hands going to rub your waist.

You had no idea what the two of you were, fuck buddies, lovers? Maybe in another life you could of maybe lived a normal life, not one where one was a serial killer. Maybe a journalist. Danny Johnson sounds like a journalist name. You’d call him Jed as a nickname, you though, it would fit him.

You both slowly part, his hand going to pull his mask back down. He slaps your butt and pushes the towards the door, smirking.

“Until next time, sweetheart. Better get to the gates before it’s too late.” He tsk’s.

once again i didn’t proofread cuz i’m LAZYYY

#ghost face x reader #danny johnson x reader #danny johnson #ghostface smut #ghostface #dead by daylight x reader #dead by daylight #dead by daylight smut

[slutforsilverfoxes]

Imagine…

Going to Kukui High in 1944 with the town heartthrob and quarterback of the football team, Steve McGarrett. Every Friday evening, like clockwork, he’d come into the diner you worked at with some of his teammates and buddies, sit in the corner booth of your section, and flirt up a storm over burgers, fries, and strawberry milkshakes. Other team members liked to throw the occasional wink and one-liner your way, but one sharp look from his best friend and tight end, Danny, and they knew to quit messing with Steve’s girl.

Their buddies would trickle out of the diner one by one until only Steve and Danny remained at closing time. Steve would approach the counter to pay the bill, appreciating the way your wine-stained lips would twist into that familiar smirk he’d grown to love. You’d ring him up, and as you counted out the change he’d wind one of your curls around his index finger and ask, “When are you gonna let a nice guy like me take out a beautiful gal like you, huh, doll?”

You’d drop the change in his open palm, pat his cheek, and answer, “In your dreams, McGarrett.”

You’d come to look forward to Friday nights- you could always count on Steve for some lovely eye-candy and a nice tip.

Until one Friday in October when the boys showed up without Steve.

You made your way over to the table, refilling waters all around until you reached Danny’s spot. “Your boy out of town?” You tossed the question out casually, focusing on keeping the pitcher in your hand steady despite the fear gnawing in your gut in anticipation of the blonde’s answer.

“Deployed,” Steve’s best friend sighed, “just like his pop.”

With a little bit of luck and a few sweet smiles directed the right way, you found out which ship Ensign Steven J. McGarrett was aboard and began writing him letters.

You penned Steve about anything and everything, keeping him updated on school drama, a college you were looking into, a recent film you’d watched. Steve would tell you about life aboard the ship, new friends he’d made, the occasional book he’d found a few spare minutes to read. You looked forward to every letter in his familiar scrawl, your eyes drinking in every detail of his writing- especially the way your name looked in his unique font- and your face would light up when you reached the end. Without fail, your sailor would sign off Yours, Steve and then a few lines down tack on P.S. Still waiting on that date, doll.

With every letter you sent back, you’d write Love, Doll, and then P.S. Come home to me and I’ll see what I can do.

When the big day finally came, you donned a new dress and curled your hair the way Steve liked it, then joined all the eager families down on the docks. Sailor after triumphant sailor disembarked to raucous cheers from the crowd, and you stood on your tiptoes to see over heads as loved ones reunited with their brave naval officers all around you. Finally, finally, you spotted Steve making his way down the gangplank, and you couldn’t suppress the delighted squeal that left your mouth before you shouted his name and waved your hand back and forth. Steve fought the urge to run to you with every fiber in his being, making it a respectable distance until he finally gave in and took loping strides toward you, ducking around other families to get to his girl.

His hands went straight to your hips, lifting you in the air and spinning you around with a brilliant smile and forcing a giddy laugh past your lips. Cupping his face in your hands, you whispered, “Welcome home, Ensign McGarrett,” before pressing your lips against his.

Your first kiss was absolutely magical, both of you pouring all the love that had built up over flirty Friday nights and months apart into it. When you had to pull away for air, Steve gently lowered you to the ground and rested his forehead against yours. Smoothing your hands over the crisp lapels of his uniform, you looked up at him with a smile and asked, “So when are you gonna let a nice gal like me take out a handsome guy like you, huh?”

#steve mcgarrett #steve mcgarrett imagine #steve mcgarrett x you #steve mcgarrett x y/n #hawaii five 0 #hawaii five 0 imagine #wwii au #1940s #Steve McGarrett fanfiction #steve mcgarrett x reader #steve mcgarrett x female reader #steve mcgarrett fluff

[lessthanpure]

Castillo

Fandom: Hawaii 5-0, s2 ep11

Pairing: Danny Williams/Others, Danny Williams/Steve McGarrett (kinda implied for the future)

Tags: Alpha/Beta/Omega dynamics, dirty talk

Wordcount: 1134

Rating: Explicit

18+ only

Summary: Danny and Steve have been in the interrogation room with Castillo for a while.

ao3 link

"I'm not kidding," McGarrett growls at Castillo. Castillo just smiles at him. McGarrett loses his temper and grabs him by the front of his shirt and slams him up against the wall, pressing close to him. "Now-" McGarrett pauses, looking down. Castillo's hard. "What, you get off on this, you sick fuck," McGarrett demands.

"No," Castillo smirks. "I'm hard because I'm imagining your pretty little boyfriend begging for my knot," he says, inclining his head in Danny's direction.

"Excuse me," Danny says, leaning forward and squinting at him slightly. 

"You heard me."

McGarrett slams Castillo's head into the wall.

"Steve, Steve," Danny says, putting his hand on Steve's shoulder. "Let me."

Steve looks at him and lets Castillo go. The cartel leader rolls his shoulders and cracks his neck. "Aw, what's the matter, can't stay away," he taunts.

Danny hits him across the face, bloodying Castillo's smart mouth. 

"Yeah, that's it," Castillo laughs, even as Danny presses his hand into the side of Castillo's face, forcing him against the wall. "That's why I like Alphas. Good amount of fight in them. Come on, you'd look so good with your mouth wrapped around my cock."

"Aren't you married," Danny asks.

"No. Just because I have boys doesn't mean I'm married."

"Boys," Danny questions.

Castillo smiles. "Yeah. Boys."

"You said you had girls. Three daughters."

"Did I? Must have been mistaken," Castillo says. "But that don't change you and I, sweetheart." McGarrett snarls and gets into Castillo's face. "Oh, I'm sorry. Did I hit a nerve? Don't worry, you can have him after."

"Steve, relax," Danny lets Castillo go, instead pressing his hands on Steve's chest.

McGarrett pins Danny against the wall and scents him viciously, scrubbing his stubble hard on Danny's cheeks and neck. "Hey, hey, take it easy," Danny gentles, seeing Castillo watching them with lust in his eyes. Steve eventually lets up, but only after Danny's skin is tingling from stubble burn. 

"Take a walk," Danny orders his partner.

"But-"

"Take. A. Walk."

Steve looks into Danny's hard face and backs off. "If you need me, I'll be right outside."

Danny nods, and Steve closes the door behind himself.

"So. Alone at last," Castillo reclaims the seat, lounging in it and spreading his legs. 

"How many boys do you have," Danny asks.

"Three. I wasn't lying about that."

"Where did you put the kids?"

"Don't know."

Danny surges forward, planting one hand on the back of Castillo's chair and pointing the other in his face. "Where. Are they," he grits out.

"You seem tense, sweetheart," Castillo says softly. "I can help with that." He puts his hand on Danny's lower back. The other man jerks slightly, but despite himself, he feels the heat of that hand slightly loosen some of the knots there. "There we go. Good Alpha," Castillo praises.

Danny takes a deep breath. He can smell how much Castillo wants him, and he mentally braces himself. "I- I've never," he starts.

"Never? Not even with your partner," Castillo asks, trying to hide his excitement. This close, Danny can hear his heart pick up. 

"No." Danny slightly curls the hand on the back of Castillo's chair, just brushing the back of Castillo's shoulders. The man rumbles appreciatively. 

"I'll be gentle. Spread you open first," Castillo murmurs. Danny swallows. "Fingers first. I'll go slow. After I open you up on my fingers a bit, I'll use my tongue." That punches a noise out of Danny. "Yeah, you like that," Castillo smirks. "I'll tonguefuck you for so long that you'll be begging for my knot. It wouldn't even hurt." Danny whines, deep in his throat, and tilts his head towards Castillo. Castillo takes the opportunity and seizes his mouth, pressing it open with his tongue. Danny can taste the blood from when he had punched him earlier, and licks over his teeth. Castillo moans. "Look so good hanging off my knot," he barely pulls away to say. 

"Please," Danny whimpers. He lets Castillo pull him into his lap, and he can feel him, hard against his ass. Castillo palms the front of Danny's pants, finding him only half-hard. 

"Now that won't do," Castillo says, going for Danny's belt, but Danny stops him. 

"Come on, we can't until we wrap up this case," Danny reminds him regretfully. Castillo's unfocused eyes seem to clear slightly. "Just tell me where the kids are and we can find a quiet motel."

"Fuck, baby, I don't know. I never knew, that was kinda the point," Castillo pants. 

"Can you guess," Danny murmurs against his mouth, hands on Castillo's shoulders. Castillo grips his hips desperately and whines plaintively. 

"Yeah, yeah I can guess. There's only so many places you can make someone disappear."

"Like," Danny grinds back onto his cock. 

Castillo snarls. "God, um. There's a warehouse."

"On Sand Island," Danny questions, and Castillo nods quickly. 

"Already checked there, nothing. Come on, give me something, I wanna taste your knot so bad."

"Fuck you can't just say things like that," Castillo complains. "There's a cement factory." He rattles off the address, rocking up into Danny. "Now can we go? I'll plug you up nice and tight."

Danny smirks, breaking Castillo's hold and sliding off his lap. Castillo opens his mouth to complain, but then Danny looks like he's going to get on his knees, and he moans. Danny backs up. "No. Now I can go." He turns around and walks out of the room. "Cement factory," he tells Steve as he closes the door.

"You teasing bitch," Castillo roars through the door.

Steve doesn't look Danny in the eyes at all through the raid. Even when the kids are safe and Danny looks at him, trying to catch his eye to share his happiness, Steve's eyes skitter away. Danny corners Steve in Steve's office when they get back.

"What's wrong," Danny asks his best friend and partner. 

"Nothing," Steve replies, shuffling some papers on his desk and talking to it. 

"Steve. You're not leaving until we talk this out."

"I heard you with Castillo, okay," the Alpha blurts out. 

"Okay. And," Danny asks.

Steve flushes, and Danny could almost laugh at him. "You...sounded...like-"

"I sounded like I was working a suspect," Danny cuts him off. "What, did you think I was actually interested in him? Babe, I would never sleep with a criminal."

"A criminal?"

"Hmm?"

"You said because he was a criminal," Steve clarifies. "Not because he's another Alpha?"

"Yes."

"So you would?"

"Would what?"

"Sleep with an Alpha."

"If it was the right Alpha, sure. I've got no problem with it."

"And you wouldn't mind getting knotted," Steve asks.

"Steve. Must you know every detail of my life," Danny complains.

"Yes."

"You first, then."

"I mean, I guess the idea could grow on me."

"Same here."

#hawaii 5 0 #hawaii five o fic #hawaii five o fanfic #my fics #hawaii five o fanfiction

[mrvdocks]

Plus One

Summary: Steve gets some closure. You and Nancy get a big surprise.

A/N: well, well, well, here we are. One chapter away from the finale. I hope you guys enjoy it. :) 

Two weeks. You’d been gone for two weeks. 

At first, he thought you just needed some time to cool off, so he waited. And waited.

And waited.

When you didn’t return after the third day, that’s when he started to panic. He’d called Robin, only to be met with an earful of how you were too good for him and that he needed to make a reassessment of his life. He knew that. 

The days started to feel long and lonely. Mickey was there sure, but he was starting to miss your presence. Your loud and annoying laughter didn’t fill his ears when he would watch your favorite shows. He wished you’d come out of the room at times and yell at him for using your luxurious things. 

He’d broken the foot tub. He didn’t know how, but he’d broken it and he wasn’t nearly as knowledgeable about fixing things as much as you were. 

Just when he was cleaning up his mess for the day, there was a knock on the door. He froze.

His heartbeat suddenly started to shake and rattle against his rib cage. There was an uneasy feeling in his stomach. One where you know you’ve done something wrong and tried to put it off and now have to face it. 

He exhales slowly, dropping what he’s doing and preparing himself for the worst. Maybe you’d push past him or call him names or take Mickey. He thinks taking Mickey would be worse. He didn’t like being alone with his thoughts and God knows he couldn’t charm anyone else to spend time with him lately. 

He opens the door in a swift motion, ready to say the usual “I’m sorry” but is met with someone he did not ever expect to see in the area.

Don Harrington. And company.

He’s in a grey suit jacket and jeans and sensible shoes, all things Steve hadn’t seen in a long time. Next to Don are two kids, the same kids that he hadn’t seen since he’d left Hawkins.

“Stranger! Stranger!” They yell in unison, pointing at Steve. 

“Guys! It’s okay, it’s just Steve, remember?” Don laughs charmingly, bringing his hands onto the boys’ shoulders and rubbing them to calm them down.

“Dad?” Steve asks, completely wide-eyed.

The kids push past Steve and begin their scream-a-thon again. Steve is too struck by his father standing in front of him to even care that they’re probably making a mess inside. 

“Hey son,” Don shoves his hands into his suit jacket. “Got a minute?”

Steve sighs. 

Steve reaches for the water basin to give his dad water and almost hides his opened bottle of alcohol but in a small thought, offers it to his dad. Don refuses it, saying he’s watching his figure. Steve scoffs to himself, just a few years earlier his dad would’ve loved a cup, or at least the whole thing.

“What are you doing here, Dad?” Steve asks, pouring the water. 

Don’s fingers tapped against the wooden table in drum-like motions. “Can’t a father visit his son with his future step-brothers? I’m worried about you, kid, you haven’t responded to any of my calls.”

Steve stops pouring. “Let’s not do this, alright?”

Don’s brows furrow. “Do what?”

Steve shoves the basin to the side. “Don’t pretend like you want to be there for me now. You had all that time then, why now?”

Don shuts his eyes. 

“Steve, I’m sorry. Really, I am. Listen, I know I wasn’t the greatest -”

“You were a grade-A asshole who ruined our family.”

Don doesn’t fight with his son. He knows his sins. But that’s what he’s here for, atonement.

“Did I make some harsh decisions for you to toughen up? Yes. Did I make your mother and you lose trust in me? Yes, but I’m here now Steve. I didn’t leave. I could’ve but I didn’t.”

“So all of this,” he gestures to Don and the kids, “suddenly just makes up for all the bullshit you’ve given me? Do you know how many times I heard mom crying in the middle of the night? All those times she pretended like those business trips you took were actually for business? Hell, do you even remember what happened when I left?”

“Yes, I do.” Don nods, closing his eyes again in uneasy remembrance. 

It would be better if the past was just forgotten.

“I know you’re angry at me. You have every right to be, but I did say I wanted to bury the hatchet. Everything I did is in the past now, your mother and I - you know, we moved on. She found someone and I did too. I think it’s only fair that you do as well. And I see you have.” 

Steve tenses up a little at the latter half of Don’s sentence. He did, didn’t he?

“Yeah. Maybe not, Dad.” Steve avoids his father’s eyes and fiddles with things on the counter.

Don catches on. “Why?”

Exasperated, Steve stops what he’s doing. 

“What happened? You made this girl sound like she was your soulmate tenfold!” 

“Maybe soulmates don’t exist, Dad. Maybe not for me anyway.” Steve plops himself down in front of his dad, clutching the mug of water to sober himself up more.

Don frowns. “What happened?”

Steve hesitates. He’s never bared his feelings to his dad since he left. And even then, it was all just dry replies and sarcasm and bitterness. But maybe it’s the alcohol talking or the fact that his dad really does seem like he’s changed. 

“I screwed it up. I just let myself get in my head and I - I pushed her away.”

Don places a comforting hand atop his son’s own. Steve recoils at first but settles. His father had never been too affectionate, no, that was his mother’s job. It felt off.

But it also felt a little more comfortable, honest. Like there wasn’t a hint of being affectionate for the sake of hiding some grand affair. 

“Steve, you’d tell me the truth if I asked you right?”

“I guess.”

“Do you hate Mary?”

“What? No. No.”

“Then why are you so mad about us?”

“I’m not mad, Dad. I just - when you and mom split, it messed me up. I didn’t want to be like you guys. I just wanted to find the one and hang onto her forever. And now I’m completely alone, so. And you’re just moving onto your next family.”

“Steve, I’m sorry that your mother and I splitting up hurt you so much. I’d be nothing if I hadn’t met her and I also wouldn’t have you. But kiddo, as long as your mother and I are alive, you’ll never be alone. Including your girlfriend. It's not too late to fix things."

“Thanks for letting me crash here, Nancy. I promise I’ll be out of your hair soon.” You say, fixing up your couch bed. 

Nancy waves your concern away. 

“Don’t even worry about it, it’s nice having company. Plus it gets kind of lonely at night.” She says, setting the white timer on and setting it down on the counter. 

“You cooking something?”

“No….just trying to time something.” She says vaguely. You don’t read too much into it for now.

Nancy smiles warmly instead, passing you a thick fleece blanket from the other couch. Jonathan was off doing a piece on the Northern Lights somewhere in Alaska. When Nancy had first revealed to him that you were staying with her until things settled, he had a few choice words for Steve.

You felt odd, having turned Steve’s friends somewhat against him. Nancy reassured you that this was familiar territory. They knew how Steve was. This is how she had remembered him in Hawkins during that honeymoon period they were in. 

“Do you miss him?” Nancy asks, settling into the blanket with you and putting the bowl of popcorn on the coffee table. She was about to play the movie you two had debated on for a solid three minutes.

You shrugged as you fiddled with the chipped nail polish on your fingers. “I love him, Nance. But if I can’t convince him that nothing’s going on, then what’s the point?”

You sigh as you close your eyes and try to imagine when the last time you saw Steve happy was. You think the day in California was the best day of your life. He was like a little kid again, running around the boardwalk and trying to impress you with the “test your strength” games. The sunset perfectly illuminated him when you laid on the cooling sand, a single curl falling loose on his forehead from his quiffed hair.

“I don’t think you should let this deter you. Maybe Steve’s just scared. I mean why wouldn’t he? He’s had a fear of unfaithfulness forever. His parents, his friends, me and Jonathan. To him, there’s always been someone better.”

“I know.” You frown. “But, and excuse the cliche, when I’m with him - it’s like nobody else matters. If I was still with Danny the second I moved in with Steve and Robin, I think I would’ve been in trouble.”

Nancy’s brows perk up, intrigued. “How so?”

“I’ve been in love with Steve since the day I moved in. I promised myself I wouldn’t move on so fast after Danny but, I messed up that day.”

Nancy smiles at the sweet thought.

You shake your head in thought. “I don’t know. Maybe I wasn’t his type after all.”

“Oh please, you’re definitely his type. Smart, tough, independent AND you have the balls to call him out on his bull? You’re his dream girl!”

You blush at the compliment. “Thanks, Nance.”

“You’re very welcome. Now, let’s riff on this romcom and throw popcorn when things get too cheesy.” 

The movie goes on for half an hour, the bottom of the tv set covered in popcorn bits and kernels. You and Nancy laugh hysterically and boo at the cheesy romantic scenes whenever they pop up. When the timer goes off Nancy glances over her shoulder and stands, giving you the half-empty bowl of popcorn.

“I’ll be back.” She says, going to the upstairs bathroom.

“Alright, but don’t take too long. I think Tom Hanks gets naked in the next scene.”

“I won’t.” She chuckles and disappears.  

You take a handful of popcorn in your hand and dump it in the hood of your sweater, bobbing for it in an attempt to stay distracted. 

Five minutes pass and Nancy hasn’t returned. You glance at the time on the tape player. It’s only so long that you can bear to stare at Tom Hanks’ eyes before he loses his charm. 

“Nancy?” You call out, hearing shifting from upstairs. No response though.

You count to three, getting up and letting pieces of popcorn fall to the ground. 

“Naaancy.” You step onto the stairs carefully, grabbing onto the wooden railing. 

Still no answer. You huff and resolve to go up the stairs.

“Nancy if this is your idea of a prank, just know it’s not great! I don’t get scared easily!” 

You make it all the way to the top and glance down both ends of the hallway. You see a light on at the end of the hallway on the left, the door left ajar just enough to see the shower. You approach with caution, hoping not to catch Nancy in an unflattering position. 

“Nancy?” You call again, now at the front of the bathroom door. You can hear sniffles like someone’s crying. Your brows furrow.

“Nancy?” You swing the bathroom door open slowly, meeting a crying Nancy on the floor next to the toilet. 

“Hey,” Your voice lowers an octave and becomes soft. “You okay?”

You kneel down to her level and put a hand on her back, rubbing in circles. 

She shakes her head, revealing a white stick in her hand. Your eyes widen when you realize what it is. 

“These aren’t real right? These are joke tests?”

Nancy looks up at you in teary puppy dog eyes. 

“I don’t know,” she hiccups. “I don’t know what to do. I was hoping it was a false alarm.”

Trying to make her feel better, you grab one of the untouched sticks and sit on the top of the toilet. “If it makes you feel better, I’ll pee on one too, and then we can see if it’s a false positive okay?”

“Okay.” She murmurs softly, chin now resting on her knees as she cowers against the shower door. 

“Have you and Jonathan talked about this kind of stuff?” You ask, shimmying your sweats down.

She shrugs and looks to the side. “It’s too early. He’s just so focused on his career and I just got this job….it’s in the plans...just - not right now.”

You cock your head to the side with a sympathetic look.

“Hey. It’s all going to work out fine alright? You don’t have to tell him yet. We can figure it out. I’ll help you.”

Nancy sniffles and dabs at her teary eyes. She nods.  

You both wait for the test results after a few minutes. You try to make her feel better with some small talk but you can tell the results weigh heavily on her mind. You grab the stick when enough time has passed, eager to make her feel better until you take a look at it.

“See? Nothing to be worried about.” You reassure her, waving the stick a few inches away from her face.

Nancy does a double-take. Her mouth formed an “O”. 

“What?” Your grin falls. “Two lines means not pregnant right?” 

She stands quickly, balancing herself on the edge of the sink. “Two lines is….pregnant.”

Your heart drops. 

“Please say you’re joking.”

“No, it says it right here, look.” She hands you the paper from the box and on it clear as day, two lines equal pregnant.

You drop the stick onto the sink and start to hyperventilate. Nancy abandons the paper and wraps an arm around you.

“Are you? Are you - pregnant too?”

“No! No, I can’t be. I - I haven’t had sex since like Halloween week!”

Nancy gives you a knowing look. Your face falls. 

“I’m too young to be pregnant!” You exclaim.

“What?” 

“Nothing, brain fart.” 

You rush out the bathroom door and downstairs to the kitchen where she keeps the home phone. You dial Robin’s number as fast as you can and tap your feet impatiently as you hear the line trilling.

“Come on, pick up.” You whisper.

Nancy rushes downstairs to stand in the doorway, clutching the manual and listening.

“Hello?” Robin’s voice alleviates some of your panic.

“Hold on I’m putting you on speaker.” You say, letting Nancy get a better listen.

“What? What’s going on? Did Steve apologize yet?”

You exhale shakily. “No, no he didn’t, I - um, I have something to tell you.”

You can hear Robin set down whatever she was holding as you capture her full attention. “What is it? You’re scaring me.”

“There’s no easy way to say this….but…I think, I’m pregnant.”

“You’re what?! Shut up!” Robin screeches. “Kali! Get in here!”

“What happened?” You hear Kali’s voice a split second later.

“Say what you just said again!” Robin commands.

“Kali, I think I’m pregnant.”

“You’re what?!?!” She gasps.

“I know!” You clap your hands over your face in shame and silently scream into them.

“Oh my god, what have you done? To like - the world?!” Robin cuts in. 

“Robin…” Kali scolds.

“I’m sorry!”

“Oh god, what do I do?” You question the speakerphone.

“That kid is going to come out with a full head of hair and try to flirt with the nurse the second it’s born.” Robin bursts into a fit of laughter. 

“Not funny, Robin!” You glare at the phone, trying to remain calm.

“Well, now you have to tell him!” Kali says.

“No, I don’t! You saw how well things went over a coffee machine, imagine a kid!” 

“You have to! What if this is what he needs to stop acting like a kid?” Robin tries to reason. “He was always good with kids in high school and part of the reason is that those were his only friends!”

You cringe, remembering those stories. 

“If losing his best friend wasn’t enough for him to stop acting like an idiot, what makes you think throwing a kid into the mix would?”

“I dunno. But Kali’s right. You have to tell him. Otherwise what happens when you start showing and the worst thing he can think is you’re getting fat?”

You scoff. 

“Maybe they’re right,” Nancy chimes in. “I mean, how long are you going to go without talking to him? You have to make up at some point.” 

You groan in frustration, raking your hands through your hair. 

“I really hate that I consider you guys my moral compass. I truly do.” 

Having responsible friends really was a pain sometimes. 

The phone line rings and blares red as another call was coming through. 

“That must be Jonathan.” Nancy guesses.

“Robin hold on, Jonathan might be on the line.” 

“Oh good, I want to know what he thinks of all this.”

Nancy puts Robin on hold and picks up the phone from the receiver. 

“Hello? Hold on, hold on, what’s going on?” 

You can hear whoever’s calling speaking fast. 

“No, she’s not here.” She lies.

You take a break from your panic attack to try and listen to the frantic voice on the other end. It’s all too fast for you to understand.

“You’re where? Slow down!” Nancy asks, glancing at you now and pointing to the phone. 

“It’s Steve.” She mouths.

You freeze. 

“Okay! Okay! I’ll let her know if I see her.” She hangs up and presses the button to get Robin back.

“What’s the sitch?” 

“He said something about a dog.” 

“Mickey?” Your voice grows concerned. 

“I guess? He just said that something was wrong and he went to take him to the animal hospital.”

Your stomach dropped to your ass. You rushed over to the front door and put on your shoes as fast as you could. 

“Did he say which one?” You ask, borrowing one of Jonathan’s coats. There was no way you were going out there in just sweats and a henley. 

“Ummm I don’t know, I think the one on West and 61st street.” 

“That’s where I work!” You exclaim. “You don’t have a car?”

Nancy shakes her head. “Jonathan’s the one who drives.”

“What about you Robin?” 

“No can do, me and Kali have a meeting but keep me posted! Good luck!”

“Screw it I’ll take a cab.” You say goodbye to Nancy and rush out the door and brave the cold. 

You whistle down a cab and hop in. “Murray’s Animal Hospital, please. And step on it!”

“Wait, (Y/N)? Is that you?” A familiar voice asks you.

The driver turns around, revealing himself to be…..speak of the devil, Danny. 

“Danny? Oh for fuck’s sake.” You sigh and rub at your temples.

“Hey!” He says in a lighthearted tone. “Long time no see.”

“Danny, I will literally pay you extra to shut up and drive like hell alright?” 

Danny does as he’s told and hauls ass. You grab a hold of the bar on top of your head for each swerve and crazed turn he does that earns him a honk of the horn from other cars and nearly sends you flying out of your seat.

Two messy car ride minutes later and you rush out of the taxi as soon as he parks outside the entrance to the animal hospital. 

“Hey!”

“Give me a minute!” You flip him off and ignore him as you try not to think of the worst-case scenario happening with Mickey.

You must look like a lunatic to the girl sitting at your desk with wild hair and an overall messy appearance. You try your best to fix yourself up.

“Where is he? Where’s Mickey?” You ask frantically.

“Who?” Your replacement sitting at your desk asks.

“A black dog! He came in with someone, big hair? Big head?”

She gets the gist and points to the right and down the hallway. You take deep breaths as you will yourself to put on a brave face. 

Steve’s sitting on a chair with his face in his hands. He looks up when he hears the patterning of your footsteps against the sheet vinyl flooring. He gets up quickly, nearly knocking the chair over.

“H-Hey.” He says nervously, hand on his arm. 

Come on, you can do this. You can do this.

“Hey.” You breathe. 

He’s taking you in from top to bottom. It’s the first time he’s seen you since Halloween night. 

“I missed you.”

“What happened?” 

You both say in unison.

Your mouth falls agape as you take in his confession. Fortunately, he pretends like your question took more priority. 

“I don’t know. One second my stepbrothers are playing with him, the next he’s choking on some toy they brought.”

“What was so important that you couldn’t keep an eye on him? I knew it. I knew I should’ve come back for him.” 

You didn’t mean for it to sound so harsh but the situation was starting to make you realize something. Say you did have this kid, would it even survive for a month? 

“My dad came to visit.” He stares down at the tips of his shoes, shoving his hands into his pockets. The same way he did last time you saw him. 

“Oh.” You let out. Well, this changes things.

“What did he want?”

“He wanted to fix things.”

“Did it work?”

He shrugs. “Having that talk with him, it made me realize something.”

Your breath gets caught in your throat. “What is it?”

“Hey, you coming or not? The meter’s running.” Danny’s voice comes to interrupt a peaceful conversation.

“Danny.” Steve acknowledges.

“Hey,” Danny replies, eyeing him. “Stan, right?”

“It’s actually Steve.” He corrects.

Danny laughs it off. “Okay man.”

You squeeze your eyes shut as you know this situation just took a turn. You grab a handful of bills from your pocket and shove them into his chest. 

“Fuck off.” You command.

Danny takes his wad of money and leaves. 

Things fall silent again as Steve clears his throat. 

“So….Danny huh?”

“Oh shut up, I needed a ride. I didn’t know he was the one driving the damn cab.” 

“Does he know about me?” 

“No. Yes. I don’t know. I figure the whole sleeping with my sister thing cancels out if he sees me with someone else.”

Steve nods, confused. 

Beat.

“Can I...can I tell you something?” Steve asks, getting closer and closer to you. You feel butterflies when he does.

“Please don’t make a big speech.”

“It’s not a big speech. It’s a medium - medium speech.”

“Okay….”

“You were right. You were completely and totally right about me. I am an asshole. And you were right about these weddings. I didn’t know what I was looking for. I would get in my head about all these things that the perfect person should or shouldn’t be. And I’ve been thinking. A lot. Being alone in that apartment made me realize something.” 

“That you’re lonely and afraid of commitment?” 

He chuckles. “No. You’re not there to insult me or make fun of me when I come home from work. You’re not there to tell me how much of an idiot I look in the groomsmen photos or how my speech was shitty. You’re not even there with me and Mickey.”

He’s starting to tear up, his eyes get blurry and watery and he has to wipe discreetly at them. It was time to confront his demons and make it up to you. Being alone was just a taste of what would become of him if he didn’t swallow his pride.

“And I know the only reason you’re not there is because I hurt you. I hurt the one person who never deserved it. And I pushed you away because I’m stupid and I’m selfish and fuck me for being too late but I love you! I love you.”

You felt your lip quivering with each little detail he added about his epiphany. But the straw that broke the camel’s back was the declaration of love.

“Y-You love me?” Your voice cracks.

“Of course.” He breathes out, hands reaching for yours to take reassuringly. 

“Steve...I really….I have to tell you something.”

“Please don’t say you and Danny are back together.” 

“No...no it’s not that,” you try to work up the courage to tell him. “I’m....I think - I’m pregnant.”

Steve steps back for a moment. He feels the shock settle in. He lets out a surprised gasp as he takes both his hands and folds them behind his head. 

“You’re what?”

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington imagine #plus one #stranger things imagine #HERE YOU GO

[ad1thi]

top 5 fanworks of 2020

rules: it’s time to love yourselves! choose your 5 (ish) favorite works you created in the past year (fics, art, edits, etc.) and link them below to reflect on the amazing things you brought into the world in 2020. tag as many writers/artists/etc. as you want (fan or original) so we can spread the love and link each other to awesome works!

tagged by: @iam93percentstardust, @omg-just-peachy

rated in order of least to most favourite: 

1.  a helping hand - buckytony, mcu, established relationship, 1k, K+

Bucky wants to shave his beard. Tony helps.

i really enjoy the intimacy involved in acts of service, and there’s always something so small and treasured about shaving,,,the trust involved in letting someone that close to your face with a knife, the intimacy in being no more than a couple of breaths away from each other, the faith that the other person won’t fuck up your face by giving you a weird shave -- i just love the layers to shaving someone else,,,and i just had to make it buckytony. this is a really short fic (as most of my fics are) but i really love it

2. broken pieces (me and you) fit together perfectly - samrhodey, mcu, developing relationship, post IW, 1.5k, K+

After Thanos, after the Snap, after Sam loses everything familiar, he finds Jim.

//

AU-gust Day 5: Post Apocalyptic AU

i really enjoy samrhodey, i really enjoy the idea of Rhodey only being a couple year’s ahead of Sam and Sam having a big crush on him, i really like the idea of both of them bonding when they join the Avengers post AoU, i really like the idea of this simple, easy relationship developing between them in this very soft and understated way, but ive never actually written them before this fic - which is why im so proud of this fic, because i like the story ive weaved here

3. princely duties - thortony, mcu, asgardian tony AU, meet cute, 1.6k, K+

Thor Odinson, Crown Prince of the Realm of Asgard, Brother of Loki the Silvertongue, son to Frigga the Kind and Odin the Great, was known for a great many things.

He was known for his great looming stature, stranding tall and proud even for an Asgardian, with muscles that rippled and tensed as he walked. He was known for his illustrious hair, a thick blond mane that he'd taken a vow to never cut, braided and cascading down his shoulders in thick waves. He was known for his might on the battlefield, for the terror he struck through the heart of his enemies when he called lighting itself down to rain fire on those who dared oppose him.

He was known for being a gentle prince, for always having an ear open and the time for a pitcher of ale. He was known for the bond he had with his brother Loki - how the two of them had curled around each other at birth, his tiny fist clenched around his brother's equally tiny pinky, and never let go.

But more than any of that, Thor Odinson was known for never taking a Consort, in all his years.

//

AU-gust Day 9: Royalty AU

Ostensibly, this is a thortony fic, but i really like this fic because of the relationship i wrote for Thor and Loki. i do hope to continue this some day, to expand this verse into a couple of related one shots that show Thor and Tony’s relationship overtime, and develop more on Thor and Loki as brothers because i think we were really robbed of that in the mcu - but this is one of my better AU-gust fills, for sure

4. the things we tell ourselves in the dark - stevetony, emh, skrulls, angst, 1.1k, K

“Still,” he turns away from Tony, because he doesn’t want to hurt him, but if he doesn’t get this out, it might eat him alive, “I was with them for months Tony. Months. How did you not notice? How did you not know it wasn't me?”

this is one of the few stevetony fics ive written all year, because ive sort of fallen out of love with the ship but emh brought it back in full force. i wrote this entire fic in 20 minutes literally the second i finished the Secret Invasion episode because there was such delicious angst and it begged to be written, and im so happy with how this turned out. i personally, am always quite worried that characters sometimes sound OOC in my fics, but i definitely didn’t have that issue with this fic, and i just really enjoyed writing it

5. 1000 lives (for you) - buckytony, mcu, soulmates AU, tws compliant, 14.7k, T

On the 10th of December 1991, the Asset is taken out of cyro, and there is a name on his right wrist.

On the 16th of December 1991, he is sent out to shoot the tyre of a car, and then kill the man and woman inside.

When he returns to base, there is a boy, no older than 17, chained to the wall of his room, shivering and bravely fighting back tears.

It does not occur to the Asset until much later than these two events are connected.

//

AU-gust Day 3: Soulmates AU

this is currently my largest fic till date, and it is such a labour of love. i don’t think ive ever worked this hard, or this long on a fic, and it’s definitely the fic i am the most proud of from 2020. im having so much fun writing this, and im really hoping that everybody reading this is really enjoying it too because i have so many ideas for this verse and it’s possibly one of my favourite things ive written ever -- not just this year

+

Bonus: the morning after - mcdanno, hawaii 5 o, established relationship, 1k, T

“I know I say this a lot,” Danny’s voice is still gruff with sleep, and he peers at Steve with one eye, as if opening both is too bright for him. He’s half twisted so he can face Steve, and the show of flexibility isn’t helping with Steve’s mission to keep things PG-13, “but today - you are literally a pain in my ass.”

i very recently got into hawaii 5 o, but i truly love these idiots with all my heart and soul, and it’s been so long since i immersed myself in a new fandom or wrote for any other characters, so i wanted to celebrate that by choosing my favourite h5o fic from this year. the thing about mcdanno is that they really do write themselves, and there’s so much potential with them that a lot of what i write is stuff you can truly imagine just happens off screen on the show. anyway, Danny is always calling Steve a pain in his ass, and i just thought it would be funny if Steve was literally a pain in this ass, and then this small one shot happened

//

those are my top 5 fanworks of 2020!! tagging @deathsweetqueen, @diazalex, @rhodee, @aleator, @starklysteve and as always, anybody else who feels like doing this!!

#tumblr tagged memes #my writing #buckytony #samrhodey #stevetony #thortony #mcdanno

[cowandcalf]

Writer’s Month 2020

Prompt No.11 - Light Part II (I couldn’t post all at once...so much to try to come up with shorter chapters...)

Chapter 1 - 5

Chapter 6

Dog tags – no one, no one touches a soldier's dog tags without permission. Danny knows that from a documentary he once saw about war veterans. It's a piece of their soul, of their devotion and it's extremely private. He feels how Steve relaxes behind his back. Danny knows Steve would have swatted his hand away if he had tried to grab the dog tags. He's so glad he's passed that test, too.

Steve stays where he feels safe, hidden. He does not step up and Danny's face is turned toward the wall. Two chains, each hang from a simple nail on the wall. Danny can read the imprinted names though. Steven Jack McGarrett and the second one, much more worn and battered, says the same name. Danny levels his breathing.

Steve speaks in a low voice. "In my line of duty, I've seen too much death. The base and the training camps can only do that much to get you ready for the real deal. You're never ready enough for what you're about to live through when deployed. It gets to you – to everyone – after a few years in."

Danny's eyes take in the small metal plates worn by their owners for years around their necks. The way they are put on the wall clenches his heart – they're discarded. The picture speaks of finality. One image that tells an entire story arching over ten volumes of human strength and utter devotion. Danny hardly stands to look at such raw intimacy. He doesn't even try to calm his racing heart.

Steve keeps talking, "you can't shake it even if you believe so at the beginning. We pretend it's not there. No one wants it but everyone deals in their own way with that shit." A longer pause makes Danny believe Steve has left. He doesn't break the spell of the moment. He gives Steve the time, he needs. "As a kid, you're afraid of the monsters under your bed. As a grown-up, serving your country, you're not afraid of any monsters until you meet them in your head."

Danny slowly turns around. He doesn't try to pretend. The chills of the words he's just heard drill into his bones. Steve controls the emotional reflection in his eyes. Danny only sees struggle and pain when Steve lets him. Steve's eyes are the only place where he could slip and someone could catch a glimpse of what lies beneath: where the purgatory of what he has witnessed burns on, keeping the monsters in his head alive. Otherwise, Steve stands out of the crowd due to his ridiculous great looks. No one on the street would assume this perfect shell of a body holds an eroded soul, worn down with ears of combat.

"Why the plants?" Danny wonders since he has bought the seldom flower for his aunt. And he desperately needs Steve to get rid of that robot-like look on his face.

Steve pushes his hands down his front pockets. He dips his head and hides his face. Danny can see how the tension creeps back and hardens Steve's muscles to a point where he's stiff as a statue. "Plants grow. Most plants sleep at night. They rest and they wait for the sun to wake them. Bushes, trees, flowers – they reach out, and with all they've got, they face sunlight. They grow stronger, grow bigger, make roots that hold them steady, embedded in the soil. They survive because they need light." Danny hears Steve swallow. His voice is even lower, almost a whisper between the wind in the leaves when he speaks again. "I need this – the light and the growing. I – all that. It helps." Steve makes an ashamed gesture, a flailing hand in the dusk to play it down. "God, this sounds so cheesy."

Danny's skin is too small for his body. He works his jaw and hopes his throat doesn't close up with the jammed emotions he can hardly contain.

"I'm a SEAL. Ex-SEAL." Words, spoken so tense and thin Danny almost misses them.

"That's why the dog tags are there and not around your neck?" Danny clears his throat.

Steve turns his head and makes it impossible for Danny to read on his face how hard it is to be out of the tightly knitted circle. Steve walks through blazing fire every time his eyes wander over to the two chains hanging on the wall. Danny can't even imagine how Steve feels. How has he ever thought he could make a difference? Love? Meaningful things? Danny wouldn't even know where to begin. Pfft, God, what's up with him? It's ridiculous. Steve lives in an entirely different orbit, unreachable, unattainable. Not his league.

"To who belongs the second pair? It's the same name on them, Steven McGarrett."

"It's my grandfather's, Steven Jack McGarrett. Ensign McGarrett. He perished on the U.S.S Arizona during the attack on Pearl Harbor, December 1941."

How can a piece of metal stand for the very soul of its bearer?

Danny's gaze gets drawn to the man in front of him, wearing threadbare jeans and standing barefoot in the golden light of the sinking sun. Love hot like fiery anger boils in Danny's stomach. He watches Steve, surrounded by a garden he has created so he won't drown in blood and despair and anguish. This green ocean is Steve's embodied back-up plan to survive would he ever make it back from the war alive. Danny's exhausted. Steve stays silent.

They watch the sunset. They still stand on the same spot when the shadows of the night grow longer and darker.

Danny's cell rings disgustingly loud in his pants pocket. He shakes his head to get rid of the dazed feeling in his head. "Chin? Yeah, sure. Give me the address I'll meet you there. Yep, see you in ten." Danny stares at this phone. Has he been that much out? He's forgotten about work completely since he has set foot in Steve's green world. Unbelievable.

"I gotta go," Danny points at his cell, "we've got a case." He could really need a break to get his head straight again.

"Sure," is all Steve answers.

The world is too loud after the reverent moments in the garden even if grief and loss have been woven into the open space between words and glances. It's was so exceptional Danny has nothing more to say. He has no idea how to catalog this afternoon with Steve. He's overwhelmed. He's glad Chin called with a case. He needs some time alone.  And there's more he doesn't know how to deal with. Steve tries to disguise he's not staring at Danny's chest or how his eyes stealthily crawl back up to his lips. This throws Danny even more.

Danny curls his fingers around the steering wheel. He lowers the window and braces his elbow on the frame of the open window. Steve walks over to him. He's still wearing the same tank top and jeans. The dirt on his clothes gives him a wild, untamed look. Steve doesn't seem to care how he looks. Danny can't take the smooth shift of strong muscles beneath sun-tanned skin any longer without losing control. He wants to touch and to smell with closed eyes like the primal side of his masculinity screams at him.

Steve bends down, one hand on the roof of the car the other still in the front pocket. He meets Danny's eyes head-on. "Raincheck on lunch?"

Danny holds Steve's piercing look. He nods brusquely, "raincheck on lunch."

And then nothing. Two men breathing and staring. Danny's stomach is heavy with suppressed emotions and the wish to yank himself free from the strong pull Steve's presence has on him.

"Do you make me say it?" Steve's jawline is sharp, his lips a thin line.

"Say what?" Danny breathes. He sweats in places he can't stand when it's not during sex.

Steve stretches to his full height and taps the roof of the car with his palm. "How can I reach you? Care to give me your number?"

Danny feels like the world's biggest dork. What did he expect? A kiss? And crazy SEAL stunt to yank him out of the car into Steve's massive arms? God, it's time for him to hit the road. "Sure yeah, it's 808-925-1717. Sorry, I've nothing to write it down –"

"I got it." Steve steps away from the car.

"Okayyy?"

"Yeah."

"Okay, see you. Bye." Danny turns the key and rolls off Steve's property. He watches in the rear mirror how Steve's figure gets smaller. He stands and waits and watches after Danny's car. He misses Steve's face the moment he can't see it anymore. The shape of Steve's body and the way he chews at his bottom lip is something he already wants in his life.

Steve watches Danny leave. He stands in the dark long after the Camaro's taillights have vanished between the thick green. He can't move. His chest is wide open. He feels the surf hitting the shore even if miles away. Sea means comfort and calmness. He's one with the water's movements. It's what carries him through hard times.

His fingers twitch. They feel empty. The front of his abs burns with the memory of arm muscles. Muscles hard as a rock. Steve closes his eyes and waits until the inner struggle ebbs away, giving space to numbness and a softer shade of despair. Every evening by nightfall he undergoes the same procedure: senseless questions shoot holes in his brain. What the fuck should he do with his life? How to move on? Where to start?

The night seems lighter today. He listens and thinks the wind carries the faint sound of an engine over to him. He imagines how Danny guns the engine to get to his task, his purpose, his job. And all Steve has is too much time at hand he cannot make pass faster.

Danny.

Steve vividly remembers the phone call he had with Kamekona when his friend told him about Danny. He was so angry he couldn't see straight. His fear and the fury made him almost spit fire. Kame made a decision without his consent. He was so sorry afterward, ashamed of how he lost it. He hung his head and sincerely apologized for his choice of words on the phone.

"Why are you calling again, Kame? You waste your time. I said already 'no' the first time. I don't want – no, YOU listen, man. I'm not interested! Fuck! How many times do you make me say it? Get it into your thick, stubborn head! It's a fucking NO from me!"

"We've agreed on the no-yelling, brah. It's time, dude. Sell your flowers, make some nice money. You could easily reforest the entire island with the crazy number of green you've stashed in your garden, brah. Wassup, man? Go for it, Mary's with me on this one. Time to learn to move on. Open a shop, go business, go big, dude. Get to know people."

"Don't you dare to drag Mary into this and don't try to sugarcoat it, Kamekona. It's still a huge NO. Don't – "

"He's good for you, brah."

"I don't want to sell my flowers to an arrogant haole, a freaking detective –"

"You don't even know him, man. You're a haole, too, buddy."

"We went to the same high school, Kame. What the fuck, man? I grew up here. It's MY island, too! And no, no, NO! I do NOT sell my babies to any-fucking-body! You got that, big guy? What does this haole even know?"   

"He's different –" 

"I don't care, Kame! Not happening! Not HPD, not the Governor, not the Queen of goddamn England – I don't fucking care! I don't sell my plants! And I don't want a stupid shop either. Stop pushing, you only get me angry." 

"Stop with the yelling already. Don't make me use keiki-talk, Steve-brah. Danny's good for you. He's a haole, yeah, but he's just the right person –"   

"What the hell is wrong with you? Got food poisoning? What's this bullshit all about? You hit your head one too many times, man. He's a white boy from the mainland, Kamekona. Jesus fucking Christ! Do you even hear yourself, huh? You, of all people, YOU want to send a stranger from fucking New Jersey over to my secret place?"    

"Yeah."   

"I don't need people, Kame, I need to be left the FUCK alone. No, I don't want him here."    

"Kawika feels it too. C'mon, Steve –"    

"Don't mess with me. I'm in no mood to be messed with. Shit! I don't need this spiritual crap from you guys about having a sixth sense. I'll drop by and blow up your fucking truck if you don't spit it out why THE HELL I need to sell my flowers to an arrogant cop I don't even fucking know!"   

"I dunno if he's arrogant but Danny's solid soulmate material." 

"You – I can't even. What the hell? Soulmate? My Ass. Are you fucking kidding me? I can't believe the ridiculous shit you're telling me, Kame. That one is even super low for you. Go fuck yourself."  

Steve remembers how he screamed into the phone. He was so close to driving over to murder his friend and to bury his body somewhere on the island. He almost burst at the seams with fury but most of all he was ashamed to lose it. He so lost it. He wanted to punch this Danny guy in the face the moment he'd pull up to his place.  

"I'm a freak, Kame. Don't you get that?  Messed up to the point of no return. I have fucking panic attacks. I can't sleep and I see stuff I shouldn't. What the ever-loving fuck do you think you're doing by sending me this guy over, huh? I don't believe in fairytales anymore and stupid love stories make me want to puke. I know my limits. You just made me want to punch something so hard my knuckles would break. I'm so goddamn angry I can't see straight. Happy now? You're such an asshole!"  

"You're done, man?"    

"Yeah, I'm done."      

"We Hawai'ians know things, brah. You, Steve, you feel the ocean in your blood. I feel different vibes coming from the stars, just like Kawika or Mamo. We know, brah, we just know. We feel the 'Aina' of the land. She talks to us. Your inner darkness needs light. Danny's light. Don't shot him in the leg, dude. Play nice. Danny's good for you."    

He would never admit it out loud but sometimes, Kame and Kawika scare him a little.   

Steve stays restless for the rest of the night. The fluttering in his stomach worries him the most. He's scared he might skid into another fit. But nothing happens. The strange, strong sensation won't disappear. His stomach kind of does some funny swoops he can't control.    

He lies in bed on his back with his hands spread wide over his nervous abs. His pulse rabbits under his skin. He stares at the ceiling and listens to the sounds of the night. He sees Danny's face when he closes his eyes. He shuts them often just to feel the comfort he can't explain. The revelation hits him hard. His eyes fly open but he stays motionless and just breathes. Steve feels the trickle of sweat running over the temple into his hair.

The label for that odd sensation lies on his tongue. It's so ridiculous he doesn't want to say it out loud. He would have barked a laugh if he was able to move. But he's thunderstruck by the fact that it has caught him off guard. He's been ambushed without realizing it. It's so obvious and so there, it frightens him. He can feel these little fuckers in his stomach. The dawning realization is worth a little anxiety fit.      

Butterflies.     

Steve turns to the side and buries his face in the pillow.    

TBC

Also on AO3

#writersmonth2020 #h50 #mcdanno #fic rec #mcdanno fic #ongoing story #prompt fill #prompt light part II #cowandcalf writes #the layout is so jacked this time. #italics won't work although they're showing. #i can't fix it guys #sorry i hate when the layout is wonky and not pristine #ao3 was a nightmare too to post #whatever #sorry the phone call with kame should be all in italics

[myriadimagines]

Can I ask for a dating/being married to Ward Meachum hc please?

Being married to Ward Meachum:

Surprise visits at his office with his favorite coffee and pastries, which never fail to brighten up his day

Ward never being able to focus when you’re around, and he feels like he’s having a silly crush despite the fact that you’re married

Make-out sessions at his desk, which Joy almost always walks into

As annoyed as Joy pretends to be at you for constantly distracting Ward from his work, she absolutely adores you

Ward initially not being a fan of how quickly you and Danny get along, but eventually he warms up to your friendship and you help Ward repair his relationship with Danny

Him loving it when you wear his suit jackets or his button-ups, whether it’s part of your outfit for the day or just one of the article of clothes you randomly picked up to wear around your apartment

Being the first person he goes to whenever he’s stressed, because you never fail to help him unwind

Him subconsciously finding himself twisting his wedding ring whenever he gets anxious, and it helps him calm down slightly because he thinks of you

Him appreciating what a good listener you are, and how patient you are with him when he feels like his world is collapsing around him

Trying to convince him not to take the drugs for his anxiety, because you know it’s becoming a problem

“y/n, you’ve got nothing to worry about. These are safe, I promise.” “Yeah but… babe, I’m just worried about you. You’re becoming dependent on these.”

You’re the first person he tells about his dad being alive

Him sometimes being the big spoon because he likes having his arms around you and feeling protective of you

But other times, especially when he’s stressed or worked up, he likes being in your arms instead and feeling your head rested on top of his

Most nights, you have to convince him to relax instead of working himself to death and practically sleeping in the office

Ward always spoiling you whenever he can, with little gifts or expensive date nights

Him surprisingly taking anniversaries very seriously

As much as Ward loves the lavish dinners in your favorite restaurants, one of his secret guilty pleasures is just curling up on the couch with you, drinking cheap wine and watching bad TV

Him initially not being able to say ‘I love you’, especially when you were only dating, but after he finally said it for the first time, he says it pretty often

When you’re about to fall asleep in his arms, when he’s rushing out the door to go to work, sometimes just at random moments where he can’t believe how lucky he is to have you – and it’s usually accompanied with a quick kiss on the cheek

And it always makes him smile to see how much you brighten up each time he tells you he loves you

tag list: @proudchocolateaddict / @myfriendmagislit / @fire–pheonix / @sheridans-dynamos / @beautifulbows924 / @writinqss / @woah-imagines / @steve-rogersirl / @gofandomsandotherstuff / @melannchoholic / @mockingjaygirl1221 / @emmacata / @hauntedpocdreamer / @unlikelysamwinchesteronahunt / @5aftermidnight / @fangirlsarah16 / @cnco-babes / @floup-doodles / @thedamagedcne / @melody-of-scream / @diansaprince / @real-fbi / @natalia-helena-alianova-romanov / @locke-writes / @batfam16

#marvel imagine #the defenders imagine #iron fist imagine #marvel headcanon #the defenders #the defenders headcanon #iron fist #iron fist headcanon #ward meachum #ward meachum headcanon #imagine #imagines #reader insert #headcanon #headcanons #anonymous #im not even gonna BEGIN to think about how wildly inaccurate this is i do not remember iron fist

[nowitsdarkfic]

creatura della notte // a joey imagine

Started this the other night before the power went out, and then picked up last night. Enjoy 😘😘😘

⚠️ Big fat risqué content warning ⚠️

“Then if anything grows while you pose, I'll oil you up and rub you down. And that's just one small fraction of the main attraction: You need a friendly hand and I need action!” -”Touch-A, Touch-A, Touch Me”, Susan Sarandon

He is the outsider of the band with his hailing from the lush backwoods of upstate, like a prince in his fitted black leather and lustrous kinky black hair. You would think he would be carrying a revolver in his high waisted stud belt, the gunslinger in search of the dark tower looming out from the dense banks of lake effect snows, but he never did brandish anything like that, at least not around you. Or so you believe. You don’t know.

The quintessential strong and silent type, his gaze steely and with the shrieking wail to accompany it, and yet you foresaw his inner silky soft nature. Something about him puts you at ease, even when he flashes a glare at the most unruly of audience members and throws his most guttural of vocals during “Armed and Dangerous”, “S.S.C./Stand or Fall”, and of course, “Raise Hell” which holds the most potent of moments wherein you find yourself curling your toes inside of your Chuck Taylors and your breath even stopping in place. You found yourself orgasming there with him, and yet you feel soft at the sight of him. Was it his big brown eyes? Was it his soft, smooth looking brown skin all over his svelte body? Or the fact he always behaved like a little boy when on stage with them?

You never could put your finger on it, especially when you had an actual moment with him in the back corridor of the concert hall. While on your way to the venue, you put in a little Steve Perry in your stereo and thus you had “Oh Sherrie” stuck in your head at that moment. You couldn’t help it: that first line slipped out from your lips once you rubbed rear ends with him in the bathroom line.You saw him out of the corner of your eye, but he already stepped away before you could continue in your inward singing. It was such an offhand moment but you wanted to hold onto it. You made a rush into the ladies’ room and then returned out when your hands were still dripping wet. He happened to be there outside of the lines, posted up on the other side of the hallway. Shaking your hands about, you wove your way through the people so as to reach him. He was exactly how you saw him in those paper magazines back home, except now he stood there, flesh and blood and without a drop of ink. “I couldn’t help but overhear you back there,” he said as part of his greeting, his fusion upstate Italian American accent smacking you right between the eyes, “that was the very first song I sang for Scott and Frankie in my audition.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah. It’s a good song, isn’t it?”

“It’s beautiful. I wish I was there to hear you sing it.”

“Well, I might be singing it tonight when we play.” He flashed you a sly grin and a twinkle in his eye. “Keep your ears astute and your body even more astutely.”

You let out a light little giggle when he spoke again.“Are you here by yourself?”

“I am, yes.”

“Meet me at the backstage door,” he advised you following a lick of his lips, “after the show. If nothing, I can give you a private show—“ His voice trailed off and you filled in the blank. He repeated it for his own sake and for yours, and without another word, he ducked out behind the curtain like a creature of the night.

*************************

Following their one hour set, and riding the rail with the mind’s eye of lightning arising from the crowd, you bustled out of the concert hall and into the chilly New York midnight. You zipped up your coat as you made your way around the corner towards the backstage entrance. Charlie stood hunched near the door with his hands stuffed into his jeans pockets, his hair tied back in a taut ponytail, and his skin milky and opaque against the floodlights on the side of the building: you found him fearless given he wore no sleeves against teenage temperatures and a falling mercury, but it made sense from his diligence that evening.

“Ah, you must be the lady of the hour,” he greeted you, the devil’s cleft in his chin growing more prominent with his impending grin. He curled his index finger back so as to beckon you into the quaint little area, small and cramped but cozy in comparison to the frigid cold outside and the thrown elbows behind you. Scott’s stringy but long hair floated back from his head as he breezed past to the tiny water closet: before closing the door, he raised his thick black eyebrows at you to acknowledge you a greeting.

Frankie and Danny were pouring themselves a drink each, and then he entered the room from the door on the far end, his belt high up on his svelte waist and his shirt hanging around his body like a curtain of lace. He had tousled his black hair back out from his face and his neck; he greeted you with an unassuming smile full of prominent star’s teeth.

“Wow, that was quick,” he remarked, “here—come sit with me.”

The two of you had a seat on the shabby looking olive green sofa next to the refreshments table. Despite the bright sheen upon his neck and his cheeks, he smelled soft and clean, like he had just climbed out of the shower and dried off with haste, in time to meet you there.

“Would you like something?” he offered. “Cup of coffee? Prosciutto? Penne? Pro pens?”

“Pro pens?” echoed Danny, cracking a smile.

“Pro penis, Daniel,” Frank corrected. “It ain’t that pro, though, you guys,” he retorted, wagging his finger at them.

“Damn, Joe, you’re actually going there with our lady here?”

“Hey, at least it’s not all the way,” he pointed out, and Charlie and Frankie burst into a fit of laughter. You felt your face grow warm as you sank down there in lumpy cushion next to him. He then returned to you, with a warm rosy glow spanning over his face and his brown eyes glimmering as if a suggestion crossed his mind.

“So... tell me. What do you have with you? What’s your story?”

“Well, I have a new flat on the fringes of the Big Apple—I moved here from Chicago. I’m a musician.”

The door of the water closet opened and Scott stepped out; meanwhile, the other four men raised their eyebrows and tilted their heads forward.

“Y-You are?” Charlie choked out.

“Yes.” You showed them a sparkling smile because you know you uncovered a sweet spot.The five of them crowded around your shins like children awaiting a story from their wise grandmother.

“Go on,” he coaxed you in a low voice as he nudged closer to you against the lumpy back cushion.

“I drum and play piano.”

Danny and Frankie, both of whom were seated at your feet cross legged, erected their spines at the sound of that.

“Care for a jam session in the future?” suggested Scott. You gave them a modest shrug but you knew you wanted it to happen. “I can sing, too. In fact, he’s one of my favorite singers ever.”

That rosy glow flushed more with modesty: he glanced over at his band mates in hopes of figuring how to respond to that.

“Me?” he stammered.“Yes.”“No wayyyy.” He blushed even more, his brown skin flowing with that lovely warmth.

“Who else do you like?” Scott asked you.

“Well, let’s see, I also like James Hetfield, Ronnie James Dio, Janis Joplin, and Robert Plant.”

“We know you like Steve Perry, too,” recalled Danny.

“Well of course.”

“How ‘bout Geddy Lee?” he added.

“Geddy Lee or bust,” you replied; and with that, he took your hand for a delicate kiss on the back. He showed you a sweet, endearing smile, but it wasn’t smarmy or riddled with the type of sleaze you might expect from boys his age. The sight of his smile added a warm soft feeling to your heart, and a peculiar tingling sensation right in between your thighs.

“By the way... that is a gorgeous color for you,” he spoke out of the blue. You peer down at the rich oxblood red top underneath your coat. You opened your coat to show them the color in its entirety.

“Ooh, hot!” Frankie declared. Scott raised his eyebrows at you, while Charlie and Danny both checked you out. But he showed you a little smirk and a raise of one eyebrow. You began to think about it: you rubbed butts, he caught you singing a song that meant the world to him, and now he had this look upon his face like he was seducing you. The red shirt became the sole thing separating you from him.

*************************

You didn’t see him again after that, and in that time, you found a decent job at a nearby bar called Snarky’s in order to help pay your rent and everything in between. You still desired to play gigs and to show him what you had with you in your repertoire. You wanted to see him again, to be in his presence, and most of all, you wanted to feel his derrière again, to give it a nice hearty caress and maybe a squeeze or two. You wanted to know if he had the best butt you had rubbed against on accident ever.

It drove you crazy, in fact, the desire to feel him in your hand, to feel him pressed against your body. You wore a red button up silk shirt for your waitress job, and once happy hour rolled around, you let one button loose to show more skin and ultimately for more generous tips, and more tips all around. You thought about him, the possibility of seeing him again and perhaps turning the tables on him. The thought of him made you feel sexy, like you could enthrall anyone.

One night was slow in particular, and you were so bored out of your wits that you took out your bun to let down your hair: you actually thought the timers in the building would shut off all the lights in there because nothing was going on. You then took a seat behind the bar and thought about what to do next.

There were things to do in the bar, and in the back in particular, and God forbid anyone caught the new girl lounging around on the job. You stood to your feet and turned around in time to catch him standing right there at the bar with his hand on the back of the chair next to you. You had your face right in his chest. He had on a soft looking leather jacket over a black sweatshirt and denim jeans: sometimes baggy clothes are the best. Meanwhile, he had tousled his black hair to where most of it sprawled over his shoulders; he raised his little black eyebrows at the sight of you.

“Oh,” he gasped. “Hello. I didn’t think I would see you here.”

You chuckled and then clutched at yourself, which in turn brought attention to your chest and your collar bones. He nibbled on his bottom lip and slipped the tip of his tongue out before he cleared his throat.

“Um, have a seat,” he stammered. You collapsed back into the seat of the chair and kept your left thigh over the edge of the seat to bring attention to your crotch. He took a seat next to you and crossed his legs underneath the bar: you took a glimpse down at his belt and the baggy crotch of his jeans. He looked cozy, not the same dark prince you had in mind at first.

“You know, I’m a waitress here,” you began, “so what would you like, babe?”

“You got any pasta?”

“I think we do. I don’t know if our cook is in yet, but I can make some for you.”

“That’d be—kinda hot, actually.” His voice in conjunction with that Italian American accent was utterly erotic to you. You nodded and ducked out from the other side of the chair before he could make out the blush on your face. You rushed into the kitchen for the pot of water and some linguine. You could hardly believe it: you were making dinner for a boy, and a sexy boy at that, too.Once the water was just shy of one hundred degrees, you felt a tap on the shoulder. You peeked over your shoulder and he padded up behind you. He taken off his jacket and slung it over his shoulder with two fingers.

“Getting eager, are we?” you teased him.

“Maybe. It’s also kinda boring out there. You know, we’re the only ones here and whatnot.” He set the coat down on the metal rack near the stove. You watched him toss his hair back from his neck and chest, and you caught a jingling noise underneath his sweatshirt. Your curiosity piqued, you stuck your hands into the back pockets of your jeans to bring attention to your hips and your curves.

“So what’s your last name?” you asked him after clearing your throat.

“Belladonna,” he answered, his voice low and soft. “It’s actually Bellardini but I go by that one instead.”

“Oh, really?”

“Yeah.” You hovered in closer to his face; eyeing his chest, you considered running your fingers along his neck and to the buttons on his collar.

“You know—I have always found Italian Americans to be the most... sensual of Americans.”

“Oh, really?” He swallowed and nearly gagged on his own oxygen.

“I think your accent is sexy.”

The tip of his tongue caressed over the edge of his teeth, and you wanted to exchange saliva with him right there. You take a fleeting glimpse down at his body, slim and lithe, and yet you could sense his toned muscles underneath that sweatshirt. A soft clean aroma emerged off of his neck and his hair. There was something so delicate and comforting about him at the same time. Even standing there, you could tell he was a lush man of many colors and layers, all of which you wanted to experience under your tongue.

“The other part of me is Iroquois,” he almost breathed those words.

“Chief Italian Stallion—“ You take one hand out of your pocket.

“What say—uh—I take you home with me to Oswego?” You know he blurted that one out. You brought your lips closer to his, but you didn’t kiss him. Instead you placed your hand on that full hip: your thumb rested on the bone and he relaxed at the feeling. He had such voluptuous hips, a gentle curve that would look too effeminate on another man, but were sensual on him. You then recall that night.

“You have quite the booty,” you whispered into his face.

“Do I now?” He licked his lips as you reached behind him and lay your hand on his lower back for a moment before sliding it down.

“You’ve got it—real thick back here—like the rest of you is nice and slim, but—“ You put extra emphasis on “but” as you pulsed your fingers. He rolled his eyes back into his head before snapping the lids shut; he nibbled on his bottom lip once again. He swallowed and accompanied it with the tilt of his head to show you his neck and his Adam’s apple.

“Should you put the linguine in or should I do it?” he choked out; for a second, you misheard that as “lingerie”, but then you hovered closer to his face right as he let out an aroused gasp through gritted teeth.

“I’ll do it. You just relax and be the little slinky stud muffin you are back out front.” You gave his butt another gentle squeeze before letting go of him. He opened his eyes and ran a hand through his hair. You returned your attention to the pot of water with the rolling boil to pour in the pasta.

One dinner was up to par, you served the pasta in a big clean dish for him, accompanied with a generous amount of sauce, a light dusting of Parmesan cheese, and a slice of garlic toast. There was a part of you that wanted to join him there at the bar but a couple of patrons entered the place and you had to care for them.

Every so often, you moseyed on over to him to make sure he was enjoying himself.

“My compliments to the cook,” he told you in a throaty voice at one point before sticking a large twirl of linguine into his mouth.

When he had finished, you sashayed over to him for his plate; and he leaned back into his chair with his hands rubbing over his slim stomach.

“That was too good for words,” he confessed, shifting his weight. You show him a warm smile, and it dawned on you that you had your hair down the whole time. He must have taken your word for it because he showed himself to you, in all his preciousness and his softness. It was that moment you realized he was perfect: you couldn’t resist him any longer.

“I think my jacket is still—mmm, ‘scuse me—in the back there.”

“I’ll—uh, get it for you, big boy,” you whispered into his face again: you followed that up with a run of your tongue around the circumference of your lips. You knew you were succeeding in this seduction, and now you needed the cherry on top.

As you returned to the kitchen to put the dish on the counter and to fetch his coat, you were positive you had him in the palm of your hand. You picked the pile of soft leather off the shelf: before you turned around, you felt a pair of hands wrap around your waist. Fingers crept down the front of your trousers, onto the button. You recognized his olive skin as he unfastened the button. You turned to find him there before you with his chest heaving and his face flushed.

“Kiss me—“ you begged him.

“Only if you kiss me.”

You lay the coat back on the rack so to better lunge for him. You wrapped your arms around his delicate waist as he shoved his tongue right into your mouth. His chest heaved; his belly was soft and so warm from feeling full. You ran your fingers through his dark hair as you sensed his hands over your back: he was unhooking you.

You hoped no one would walk in on the two of you as you moved your head back to hear him breathe.

“You wanna go into the back room here, baby doll?” he whispered to you.

“Please,” you pleaded to him. He took you by the hand and led you into the small narrow nook of a back room, where you were met with a loveseat and a stack of boxes. You nudged the narrow door closed behind you, and without hesitation, he peeled off his sweatshirt. He had smooth, silky looking skin with a healthy kiss of brown, a deep strong looking chest, and a stomach as flat as an ironing board. You could feel that tingling sensation between your thighs again, and then you unfastened the buttons of your work shirt.

“Take it off,” he commanded, gesturing to your bra straps. You unhooked and let the straps fall down your arms. He lay down on the loveseat, on his back.

“My jeans are getting tight,” he confessed, “and not from the fact I made a complete pig of myself back there.”

You, however, let your pants drop down to the floor and you climbed on top of him. Your hair cascaded over his face and neck. Your chest hung right over him, and you could see your nipples tightening and hardening.

“What were you gonna do back there with the unbuttoning?” you asked him.

“Touch you. Like what I’m doing right now.”

You took a glimpse down at your waist in time to catch his fingers down your crotch.

“Spread eagle for me, baby—“

You straddled his waist so he could make a better, deeper caress into you. You gasped out at the feel of him stroking your clit—you didn’t realize his fingers were that long! You gasp and buck your hips at the feeling. You breathe heavily from the feeling, until you take a glimpse down at his waist. He’s getting hard.

“Go comatose for me, baby,” you breathed into his face.

“Gladly—“ he grunted through gritted teeth. You reached down to undo his jeans and peel back his underwear. So big and full.

“Wow—“ you gasped. “Italian Stallion.”

“Giddy up, cowgirl,” he challenged you as he continued to finger you. The tips of his fingers reached that dime sized bundle of nerves in your coochie and then you were ready. You moved your hips forward for a seat on his erection. You ground your hips around like you were churning butter.He gasped and groaned at the feeling. Every gyration of your hips led your closer and closer to the cowgirl he said you were.

“MOTHERFUCKING YEEHAW!” he shouted. You hushed him with a finger over his lips.

“What would the neighbors and patrons think?” you demanded.

“Let them—“ he growled. “Let them see us!” He threw his head back against the pillow of the loveseat.

“Oh God—oh fucking hell—“ He opened his eyes and parted his lips: his face was riddled with lust for you.

“Say my name,” he said in a husky voice.

“Huh?”

“Say my name!”

“Joey!”

“Louder!”

“Joey!”

“Louder, dammit!”

“OH JOEY!”

“YES!”

He gripped onto your hips and yanked you down onto the cushions. He lifted himself up over you, and straddled over your hips. His hair flooded over his shoulders, while his cheekbones filled out with the accompanying warm blush. His lips puckered up at the sight of your face.

“You’re cowgirl, I’ll be Indian,” he told you in a broken voice. You could sense it between you, especially with his hands on your hips like he was going to turn you over onto your face.

“Want me to roll over?”

“God, yes.”

He lifted up for you to roll onto your stomach: you protected your chest from the rough fabric of the loveseat with the backs of your hands. You felt his hands gently holding onto your hips. You spread eagle for him.He thrusted forward right into your clit. You gasped at the feeling, but on the second time you gave him a soft moan from the back of your throat. He thrusted again, and again; the smacking sound filled your ears. Every so often he let out a groan, but once your moans led to a loud squeal he gave away every inch of feeling within him to relish in every inch of you: he surrendered to the feeling.

“Hey—hey—okay—okay—!”

Another thrust, and that time it was the hardest.

“FUCK!” you shouted, and you felt yourself coming.He shrieked, a high piercing shriek with a vibrato as if he was singing.

“Okay—!” he choked out; he let go of your hips and yanked out. You fell onto your hands for a moment: you felt him climb off the loveseat and then he padded out of the back room for something. When he returned, you rolled onto your back. Your breasts poked out for him as he lunged towards you with his jacket in hand, but he slid in between you and the back of the loveseat. He cloaked you with his jacket and put his arm around your body: you know he did it to feel you and hold you close.

“That was—everything I wanted and then some,” you told him in a broken voice. “Shouldn’t we have a blanket other than your jacket?”

“Keep it, sweet cheeks,” he whispered to you, following it up with a low whistle. “God, you did that like a fucking pro.”

“That’s what I get for finding your dick so delicious,” you croaked out.

“What say—uh, you and I call it a night here and mosey back to New York in the morning,” he suggested, putting his arm around you.

“Sounds like a plan. It is closing time after all.”

He nestled closer to you with his fingers on your hip: he still felt full and soft as he pressed himself closer to you. Your eyelids grew heavy right then as the timers shut off all the lights for the night. Your hope was that he would continue to hold you when you awoke in the morning.

#joey belladonna #anthrax #one shot #imagine #smut #lemon #fanfic #heavy metal fanfiction

[flowerfan2]

Hāʻule Lau (Fallen Leaves) - Chapter Two

Turns out this is going to be a three chapter fic (no one is more surprised than me, but these things happen).

McDanno, M, A03 The radiation poisoning Steve suffered almost ten years ago has finally caught up with him.  But they're getting through it, together. 

Chapter 2

Eighteen months later

Steve sits on the bathroom floor, wiping his mouth and trying to catch his breath.  Danny leans forward to flush the toilet, then settles back down next to Steve.  He hands him a water bottle, and Steve takes it, arm shaking as he raises it to his mouth, swishes, and spits.

“Want a blanket?”  Danny says after a few minutes.  It’s not cold out – it’s summer in Hawaii – but Steve is shivering. He nods, and Danny gets up to retrieve the spare quilt from the bedroom.  They’ve used it for this before.  Steve will never look at it the same way again.

After a few more minutes, Danny stretches out his pajama-clad legs and sighs, then shoots a guilty look at Steve and tries to rearrange his face into something less miserable.  It’s hard to do, though, at three in the morning, in the middle of another punishing round of chemo.  The disease has made their lives into an endless cycle of hospital visits and days waiting to see how much more Steve can vomit.

Steve hates the expression that’s taken root on his husband’s face, a sorrowful mix of fear and worry and pity. It’s especially out of place now, this week, when he should be feeling only joy.

“I want you to go,” he says.  It comes out too rough, his throat sore and aching, so he tries again.  “Danny, I want you to go.  Today.”

 Danny blinks at him, brow furrowing, and then shakes his head.  “No.”

 “She’s having a c-section in two days. You should be there.  You have to be there.”

 Grace lives in L.A. now.  She’s in her third year of grad school.  She’s also pregnant with her first child, and about to pop.  Steve knows that if he wasn’t sick, Danny would be there by her side, waving his hands and grinning and praising every damn thing about his little girl.  But instead he’s here, in a cold, smelly bathroom, cleaning up Steve’s puke.

 “I’m not leaving you, Steve.  No.  Forget it.”

 Steve takes a deep breath, carefully easing the air in and out.  His stomach is staying calm for the moment, so he slides a little closer to Danny. “Hey, listen to me,” he says, and catches Danny’s eye.  “I’ll be okay here by myself for a few days.  I will.  The worst is over.”

 Danny glares at him, and shakes his head again.  “No.”

 “You can’t just say ‘no’ over and over to me, Danny.  That’s not an argument.”

 “You can’t make me leave.”

 Steve starts to respond, pales and coughs while he suppresses the urge to vomit again, and then pokes at Danny with his socked foot.  “I’m still gonna be here in a few days, Danny. “  Hopefully not right here, he thinks.  His butt aches from sitting on the tile floor.  “As much fun as it is having you here with me, I really can get by without you for a little while.  I can still drag myself to the bathroom and back, even if you’re in L.A. And if you miss this, the birth of Grace’s kid, your first grandchild….”

 “What?”  Danny challenges.  “What’ll you do?”

 “I’ll feel terrible,” Steve says bluntly.  Steve feels pretty terrible all the time lately, and Danny knows it.  But this, this is an entirely different ballgame. “Please, Danny.  Do this for me.  For Gracie. For you.”

 Danny gazes at Steve, and Steve can only imagine what he’s thinking – that the dark circles under Steve’s eyes are getting larger every day, that the muscles in his arms are getting smaller. That his buzz cut is only a memory. “I don’t want to leave you,” Danny says, voice tight.  

 “Come here.”  Steve holds out his arms, and Danny sags into him, hands sliding under the blanket to find Steve’s clammy skin.  “It’s gonna be okay, Danno.  I’ll be okay alone for a little while.  I can do this.”

 Danny presses his face into Steve’s neck, shoulders shaking.  Steve strokes his back, trying to keep his breathing regular, praying that the scent of Danny’s hair or laundry detergent or something else random doesn’t send him diving for the toilet for at least a few more minutes.  He just wants to hold his husband for a little while, give him some comfort.  It shouldn’t be too much to ask.

 “Can Charlie come over?”  Danny mumbles.  Steve hears the hesitance in Danny’s voice, and mentally kicks himself in the ass.  Steve has been clear about not wanting anyone to see him like this, and has rejected offers of help from family and friends for weeks.  Possibly this wasn’t exactly fair to Danny.

 “Yeah, Charlie can come over. Every day, if he wants.  I’ll call Kamekona, too.”

 Danny huffs out a laugh.  “Shall I tell him to bring garlic shrimp?  Or do you want the extra spicy kind?”

 Steve groans, and pretends to reach for the toilet.  Danny sits back in alarm, and then ducks his forehead against Steve’s chest, tiredly curling into his arms again.  “I love you, babe.  So much.”

 Don’t die on me, Danny’s saying.  Don’t leave me.

 “I love you too, Danny.”  I won’t.  I’ll try.   “Now go book a flight.”

 *****

“God, I can’t believe how beautiful she is,” Steve says, leaning forward to try to get a closer look. Charlie picks up the tablet and holds it between them so they can see better.  

 Grace’s daughter is without a doubt the most beautiful baby that has ever lived.

 Steve’s been camped out on the couch all day, watching reality TV with Charlie and waiting for updates.  He enjoys spending time with Charlie, he always has.  Danny’s son has turned into a good looking young man, blond like Danny used to be and slight, but taller than his father and still growing.  Charlie’s simultaneously skyping with Danny and texting someone else on his phone, never still for long.  Just like his dad.

 On the screen, Danny is sitting in a hospital rocking chair, holding a bundle of striped blanket with a little face peeking out.  As beautiful as the infant is, Steve thinks the joy on Danny’s face is even more beautiful. Radiant, even.  He’ll keep that thought to himself.

 “I can’t believe Grace still hasn’t named her,” Charlie is saying, and Steve forces himself to focus on the conversation.

 “It’s an important decision,” Danny says, his voice quiet so as not to wake the baby.  “But she did finally make up her mind.”  There’s a twinkle in his eye that comes through even over skype, and Steve bites his lip in anticipation.

 “She did?  What’s her name?”  Charlie asks.

 “Stephanie Danielle,” Danny says.

 “What?”  Charlie shrieks, sounding like a six year old again. “That’s – no way!”

 Danny’s grinning, and Steve grins back. He knows where this is going.

 “Why does she get to be named for you guys?  Why not… Charli-ana, or…”

 “I think you’re looking for Charlotte,” Steve says under his breath to Charlie, and Charlie nods.

 “Yeah, why not Charlotte?  And wow, mom’s gonna be pissed, so pissed, Grace can’t really play favorites like that, can she?”

 Danny is practically snorting now, trying not to laugh, and Steve loves it so much, this playful side of Danny that hasn’t had a chance to show itself much these days.

 “I’m just kidding,” Danny finally says, and Charlie deflates.

 “Oh.  That’s good.”  Charlies pouts.  “So, did she name her or not?”

 “She’s narrowed it down to Kayla or Justine.  Or possibly Maribelle.”

 Charlie frowns.  “Really?”

 Danny grins again.  “No.  She won’t tell me yet, she wants to tell us all together.  But between you and me, I heard her talking to the nurse, and I think she’s going with Annie.”

 “Annie,” Steve says, nodding. “That’s really nice.”

 “Yeah,” says Danny.  “I thought so.”  Danny shifts a little, his gaze going down to look at the baby, and then back up at them.  “Hey, Charlie, give me a minute with Steve?”

 “Sure, no problem.”  Charlie stands up from the couch, long limbs arranging themselves with ease, and wanders into the kitchen.  The only problem with having Charlie around is that he eats like a horse, and Steve and food don’t really get along.  Steve is tempted to unplug the microwave in his defense but the smell in the kitchen is even stronger, and he doesn’t think he should risk it.  Maybe tomorrow.

 “So babe, how’re you doing?”  All joking has been set aside.

 “I’m okay, Danny, really.”

 “How’d you sleep?  You keeping anything down?”

 Steve doesn’t answer, and wishes he didn’t have to see Danny’s face fall.  But he’s not about to lie.

 “That bad?”

 “It’ll be better tonight.  And I napped a little this afternoon.  Drank some water.”

 Danny nods.  “You look comfy.”

 Steve’s covered in blankets, extra pillows piled around him.  “Charlie’s looking out for me.  He’s a good kid.”

 “He is.”  Danny looks down at the baby again, and back up at Steve, a little of that joy returning to his face.  “I can’t believe it.  Grace made a baby.  And she’s so gorgeous.”

 “She really is.  And Grace is, too.”

 Danny beams.  “She is.  Grace was just amazing.  So calm, and so strong.  You should have seen her, Steve.”

 “I will,” Steve says.  “Next time you visit.  I’ll be with you.”

 Danny’s smile flickers, and Steve feels a shiver run down his spine.  “Promise?”

 Steve knows he can’t, knows he shouldn’t.  There’s no way to predict how this will go, whether he’ll recover from this or not. But he’s seized with a sudden confidence, a determination he hasn’t felt in a long time.  He wants to fight.  He wants to be there for Danny, for their marriage, and for their life together.  For Grace and Charlie, and for this beautiful little baby.

 So he sends out a prayer to the universe, and looks his husband in the eye.  “Yeah, Danno.  I promise.”

#Hawaii Five-0 #h50 #Steve McGarrett #Danny Williams #my fic

[macgyvermedical]

Improvised or self-surgery for Danny and Steve (no real preference as to who's the patient) from Hawaii 5-0 please! (I love and appreciate your blog and all the effort you put into it!)

***Not affiliated with the official “Bad Things Happen Bingo” writing challenge***

“H-help me out here Steve, I think I’m hearing things- did someone on your end say I had to pull this thing out myself?” Danny asked. He waited for an answer, extremely disconcerted by the several seconds of inaudible conversation on the other end of the phone line. “Yo, still here, can definitely hear you, what’s-”

“That’s right, Danny.” Steve’s voice confirmed. It was not the answer Danny was hoping for.

“Thought that was something we didn’t do. In fact, I clearly remember ‘pull the impaled thing out’ was on the don’t do list.” Danny let his voice get a little exasperated for emphasis and hoped the sentiment got through.

“Detective Williams,” Dr. Silvia Reyes interrupted. Danny wished she could see his face right now because a phone connection was not nearly the right medium to display his level of incredulity. “Almost any other circumstances yes, you’re right- the risk of severe bleeding, additional tissue damage, it wouldn’t be worth it.” She paused. “But in this case we have to consider the bigger threat.”

“Walk me through that- what’s the bigger threat than the explosion I was just in and the metal sticking out of my leg?” He’d been investigating a remote lab with an enforcement ranger when the man had tripped some kind of self destruct, triggering an explosion. Danny had been far enough away to only get thrown backwards, several pieces of metal debris embedding themselves in his upper right thigh in the process. Even he had to admit it was a lucky break, but it didn’t change the fact that the conversation he was now having was one of his least favorite kinds of conversations.

“Danny, after you left this morning, we looked over the pics the Park Service sent over.” Steve explained. “The FBI field office confirmed the lab may have been equipped with nuclear materials.”

Danny’s heart sank. “So the self-destruct was a dirty bomb, right?”

“We believe so, unfortunately. The concern now is that the whole area is contaminated.” Dr. Reyes continued. “There is no way to know how badly until we can pull together a trained team, but until we know more I would recommend spending no more than an hour where you are.”

“Is the shrapnel in my leg contaminated?” Danny asked, suddenly very much wanting it out of his body.

“Most likely.” Reyes replied.

“You’re gonna have to walk out of there Danny- we’ve already thought it over. The terrain’s too rough to send a vehicle, and we can’t risk sending a rescue team on foot until we know how bad the radiation is.”

“What about a chopper?” Danny asked. Under another circumstance he might have felt embarrassed asking for a helicopter, but at the moment he felt entirely justified in the request.

“Sorry Danny, we talked about that too- there’s a risk it could stir up the contaminated particles and the wind could spread them to a populated area.” Steve said it in such a way that Danny knew he’d agonized over it beforehand.

“Listen, I think you’re all forgetting I can’t walk. I almost passed out just getting my leg underneath me to stand a few minutes ago. I tried. The terrain walking in was rough enough when I could move my leg.”

“Based on the the pictures you sent, once it’s removed it will still by painful, but you’ll be able to bend it and bear some weight- you should be able to make it to the nearest road, where we can meet you with an ambulance.”

“I’m really not getting out of this, am I?” Danny asked.

“No, and the sooner we can start, the lower your total exposure will be.”

“Great.”

“Okay, is where you are still safe for you?” Danny looked around. There was a tinge of smoke in the air, but he was far enough away from the wreckage of the building that the still-smoldering pieces didn’t pose a threat to him. There was also no sign that the lab’s owners had sent anyone to assess the damage yet. He figured pointing out the looming threat of agonizing death by radiation wouldn’t help much.

“Yes.” He answered grudgingly.

“And you can still feel and move your foot and toes?” Dr. Reyes asked. “No numbness or tingling?”

“Yeah, still good there.”

“And no pain anywhere else, difficulty breathing, headache, vision changes, anything you haven’t told me?”

“No.”

“What supplies do you have with you?” Miraculously, his backpack had stayed on his back through the explosion. He was leaning against it, but forced himself to sit up painfully and pull it off his back.

“Uuuh, I got half a water bottle and a protein bar, some of the testing strips for the lab, a couple of pens, a pad of paper, a backpack, baseball cap, most of my clothes are intact, and a first aid kit.”

“What’s in the first aid kit?”

Danny opened the kit and dumped the contents onto the back of the backpack. “First aid kit’s got some, uh, band-aids, antiseptic, gloves, tweezers, ABD pads, some of those forehead fever things, tape, a tourniquet, trauma shears, some butterflies, tylenol, benadryl, one of those eye wash squeeze things, an ace wrap, and a little pocket guide.”

“Okay, I’m going to have you cut your pant leg away from the injury as much as possible. If some of the fabric got pulled in with the shrapnel that’s okay, you don’t have to take it out yet. You’re just trying to get the best view of the wound you can.” Reyes said.

“Yet she says. Sure.” Danny gritted his teeth. His hands shook as he hooked the shears into the pocket of his khakis. They cut easily through the bloodstained fabric, but each shaky cut pulled painfully at the piece of metal in his leg. He stopped more than once to catch his breath, trying not to let on that even this simple act had been difficult. He couldn’t imagine what he was about to do with actually removing the pieces.

“I don’t think there’s going to be much of a problem with severe bleeding, but I don’t know how deep the piece goes and it’s better safe than sorry. I’m going to have you put the tourniquet on about two inches above the shrapnel, but don’t tighten it down. Can you do that?” Reyes asked. As a police officer he’d gone through the obligatory first responder course, and once during an active shooter situation he’d put a tourniquet on someone else, but the idea of putting on no his own leg felt foreign and ominous.

“Yeah.” There was no way he’d be able to slip the tourniquet over his leg without tightening the muscles around the wound, so he pulled one side of the fabric completely out of it’s slot, slid it under his leg above the wound, and put it back together, tightening it just far enough that it wouldn’t come off. “Done.” He said.

“Good, still doing okay?”

“Let’s get this over with.” He ground out. Everything felt hot, he was covered in sweat, the

“Okay, I’m going to go over this first, don’t do anything until I tell you.” Reyes started. “You’re going to want to relax your leg as much as possible. Then get the best grip you can on the part of it that’s outside you. You’re going to pull it straight out at a 90 degree angle. It’s going to tug more than you think it will, but try to do it in one fluid mot-”

Danny nodded and waited several seconds for more instructions. “Dr. Reyes?” No response. “Steve?” Danny scrabbled on the ground for his phone. Please. It could have been a call drop. It could have been a volume thing.

It wasn’t. The low battery icon flashed briefly on the screen. C’mon, please. Danny wanted to scream. An explosion. Shrapnel in his leg. Radiation. The fact that he would have to pull this damn piece of metal out of his own leg because there was no one alive to help him. And now his phone was dead at the worst possible moment. Get a grip Danny.

He took a few steadying breaths. If nothing else, it sounded like he’d gotten the important parts from Reyes before the line had gone dead. A rendez-vous point with the ambulance was also no problem- if he could make it back to the ranger’s van, that would presumably be where Steve would send it.

There was just one thing standing in the way of safety now.

Relaxing his leg was harder than he wanted it to be. Everything felt tight just from the pain, but the muscles in his leg seemed to have protectively clenched around the offending metal. He took a steadying breath, gripping the protruding part of the shrapnel the best he could. Even the shaking in his hand sent pain into his leg.

F*ck f*ck f*ck f*ck f*ck

He could scream. He could scream as loud as he wanted and no one would hear him. Okay. He could do this.

1….

2….

“AHHHHHHHHAHAHHAHHHGHGHGHHHHHHHHHHHHH”

He screamed as loudly as he could, all thought, and all effort went into the scream. It didn’t drown out the pain, but he wasn’t expecting it to. It distracted him just enough that when he closed his mouth, tears streaming down his face, and opened his eyes, he saw a bloody piece of metal in his hand.

He couldn’t even describe how proud he was of it.

Panting, lightheaded, and feeling like he might puke, he stared down at the wound the metal had left. Satisfied the seeping blood wouldn’t kill him, he let himself lay back.

“Done.” He sighed.

He lay on the grass for several long seconds, waiting for the curls to fade from his vision and the pain to ebb away. Then he sat slowly. He took one of the ABD pads from the pile and pressed it lightly against the wound and wrapped the ace wrap around in. It wasn’t a perfect dressing, but it just had to hold up until he got to the ambulance. Gingerly, he tested if he could bend his leg.

To his great excitement, it was just as Reyes had predicted- it was painful, but possible now to bend his leg. He stood carefully, testing the weight he could bear in spite of the wound. It wasn’t much, but he was mobile. He picked up the water bottle, took one quick look at the pile of supplies, decided it wasn’t worth it, and began limping painfully towards the vehicle.

#hawaii 5-0 #whump #fanfic #medical whump bingo #self surgery

[diinofayce]

Shadows on the Horizon - 14

Pairing: Winter Soldier! Bucky Barnes x OFC! Layne Hardin | Word Count: 2.5k | Warnings: Language, angst, steamy makeouts, shower times, not quite smut | A/N: This is a sequel to my story Like a Whisper in the Night | Shadows on the Horizon Masterlist

“You could have died and it would have actually been my fault!”

Bucky was in a total state of distress. Danny had the kids tucked away in the back of the quinjet where they kept the bunks for after missions and long flights so Layne and Bucky could hash out whatever was going on with him in peace. Lucas had bombarded the sullen and moody Bucky with questions the whole drive back to the airport in Bloomington. Susanna and Layne kept them wrangled and out of his hair well enough, but they left Sue back in Minneapolis and Danny wasn’t as well versed with children so Layne could only imagine how crazy they were driving her brother.

“It’s not your fault you hit him in his bulletproof sunglasses. Who the fuck makes bulletproof sunglasses? Do you think Tony’s glasses are bulletproof?” Layne flicked the switches over her head in the copilot seat and her brows furrowed as the scanners didn’t give her the reports she was looking for. “Besides, almost dying is kind of a frequent hazard in this job field.”

“That’s the wrong one,” Bucky mumbled, coming down from his panic for a minute to reach over and flick the switch back and flip the one next to it on the right. “And it would have been my fault regardless. I should have made sure they were dead.”

Layne rolled her eyes at her boyfriend. “Do you think I would have gone back in the van if I didn’t think you were watching and had my back, Buck?”

“I don’t fucking know,” Bucky growled, flicking his own set of switches as they prepared to land back at the compound. “I don’t fucking know anything anymore.”

Layne narrowed her eyes at Bucky, her lips turning down in a frown of disappointment before refocusing on the landing pad that was coming into view below them. “Why don’t you actually tell me what you’re mad about, James?”

Bucky froze and blinked a few times at the terseness in her voice and the fact that the only times she ever uses his real name outside of the bedroom is when he’s done something really stupid.

“I’m not mad, Layne. I feel confused and foggy and I don’t even know what else. I figured in both lives I could point and shoot so this shouldn’t have been a problem, but it’s different now. It’s all different now,” Bucky answered softly, dropping the wheels of the jet.

Layne pursed her lips as they landed the jet. Turning off toggles and switches and then the engines she focused on taking steadying breaths. “Maybe,” Layne started but stopped to chew on her thoughts some more.

Bucky watched her anxiously chew on her bottom lip, her eyes flicking back and forth as she sorted through the thoughts in her head.

“Maybe, if it will make you feel better, Shuri can put your head back to where it was. Maybe Steve was right and I was messing around with things I had no business in,” Layne mumbled softly as she cracked her knuckles nervously.

Bucky turned his head at the sound of small running footsteps, Danny was following close behind and Bucky reached up to flip the switch to open the ramp. Spinning in his chair he reached out and grabbed Layne’s hands, pulling her gently into his lap. She folded up easily, her butt between his legs with her knees folded up under his left arm and her head tucked under his chin resting against his right shoulder. He tangled his vibranium fingers in her curls as he held her close and tight to him.

“As weird as this sounds, I feel better than I ever have. Mentally, I mean,” Bucky responded. “I just thought that I had remembered everything I was going to and I was okay with that, but now I’ve had to process all this extra stuff and I’m trying to decide what to do about it.”

Layne tangled her fingers in the straps of Bucky’s vest, clinging to him impossibly tight her knuckles white from lack of blood circulation. “Together, then. Whatever you decide, we do it together.”

Bucky sighed and she felt him shake his head in refusal. “I don’t think I can bring you along for some of this.”

Layne pressed her hands flat against his chest and pushed herself away from him so she could look him in the eyes. The usual clear blue of them swirling with an icy chill that she had only seen in flickers in the past, but would have to get used to it being a permanent fixture in his gaze.

“We promised, James,” Layne pressed, “We promised everything together or not at all.”

Bucky drug his teeth over his bottom lip, his eyes adverting Layne’s pointed gaze. “There are things I just don’t want you to have to see. I don’t even know if anything is still even there or not. I don’t know how I’ll react when I go to these places or find whatever I hid at them. I don’t know if you’ll be safe from me.”

“Bucky,” Layne’s voice was firm and had zero room for argument. “Shut the fuck up. I’m coming with.”

With that she leaned forward and pressed her lips to his. Any argument that Bucky was going to come up with was lost when she nipped her teeth into his bottom lip, the soft moan he let out allowing for her tongue to slip in his mouth. His hands slid down to firmly grasp her hips and shifted her so instead of being cradled in his arms she was straddling his lap. Her hands raised to tangle in his hair, tugging at the locks softly to tilt his head back and let her kiss him deeper. He broke away for air and to let out a wanton moan as she ground her sex into his.

“Jesus, baby, we gotta hit the pause button,” Bucky begged, but planted hot and heavy kisses down from her ear to her throat despite his words.

“So I can come with you when you go?” Layne whispered huskily, dragging her nails from his scalp to the back of his neck.

“Course, doll, whatever you want,” he agreed hurriedly, his mouth on a path to her chest but suddenly his arms and lap were empty as Layne stood and straightened out her uniform.

“Great. Straighten up, soldier, we have to debrief.”

Bucky blinked a few times, his hands still in midair in front of him from when he was holding Layne in his grip, a dumb look frozen on his face. He licked his lips as he fought the lust fogging his brain. “That…that was the rudest thing you’ve ever done.”

Layne sent him a cheeky wink and giggled. “I didn’t say I didn’t have plans to finish what I started, Barnes.”

~*~

The debrief was quick and easy, which was nice because they rarely are. The children were settled across the hall from Bucky and Layne in Layne’s old apartment, Cheryl was looking to make a quick recovery and would be out to meet them by the end of the week where they would take the three children to upstate New York and introduce them to Charles Xavier. In the meantime, Layne proposed a plan to really see what her nieces and nephew were capable of so they would be more quickly placed at the Academy.

But now, back in her and Bucky’s bathroom, she peeled her skin tight suit from her body and turned on the tap for the shower. Once it was lukewarm she stepped in, lifting her face up under the water stream and letting it soak her hair and plaster it to her skin. She let out a sigh from deep in her gut, the weight that’s been sitting on her chest for the better part of the week feeling crushing.

She ignored the soft knocking on the bathroom door knowing that Bucky was going to let himself in anyway and sure enough the door clicked open.

“Room for one more?” Bucky asked and Layne nodded slightly through their frosted glass door before choking out an okay.

Bucky stuck his hand in the shower first to check the water before reaching down to turn the heat up just a little bit and then stepping in.

“Are you doing okay?” Bucky asked with concern, his hands running up his girlfriend’s back and squeezing her shoulders gently. The difference in temperature made her shudder involuntarily until the vibranium caught up from the heat of the water.

His concern made her feel guilty. She wasn’t the one anyone should be worried about right now, Bucky had literally just gone through hell and back and now here he was trying to make sure she was okay. Little fragile Layne Hardin, falling the fuck apart again. She swallowed heavily and tried to pull herself back together quickly even if she knew it was pointless with him.  

“I guess, now that everything has calmed down a little it’s just all kind of hit me,” Layne answered honestly and leaned back into his broad chest. She twists her head around and leaves a gentle kiss on the scarring of his left shoulder.

“You’re angry.” It was a statement, Bucky knew her well enough to tell when she was barely hanging onto her self control. Even back in the Twin Cities when she basically assaulted her brother it was a rare moment. She was normally very good at keeping her emotions under cloak and mask, but Bucky could feel the frustration radiating off of her like heat waves.

“There’s no point in being angry. What’s done is done and it all worked out well enough in the end,” Layne grumbled grabbing her bottle of shampoo and squirting it into her hand.

Bucky reached forward and scooped it from her open palm to massage into her scalp, Layne let out a pleased hum and another deep sigh this one allowing much of the weight to come from her chest.

“I’m sorry, if it makes a difference, I shouldn’t have gone off on my own.”

“It didn’t just put you in harm’s way, Buck. You had a partner. Fuck the mission, you know? I agree with you that any scientist that was involved with what happened to you to take priority, but you left Sue on her own. She looked up and you were just gone and she still had unfriendlies to take care of.”

Bucky took half a step back and tilted Layne’s head back slightly so he could rinse the soap from her hair.

“I know,” he agreed, chagrined. It hadn’t been his intention to abandon his partner and the mission. He had seen the scientist and suddenly he was back in that bank vault in DC and he was giving chase.

“And seeing that fucking chair in your night terrors is one thing, but goddammit Bucky. How are you even willing to jump back into all of this after that again?” Layne twisted in Bucky’s arms pressing her chest against his and wrapping her arms around his neck.

Bucky’s ice blue eyes bored into her warm caramel ones as he searched for the unspoken question hidden beneath the spoken one. His hands fell from her hair down to her shoulders and finally splayed across her ribs right under her breasts.

“Layne,” Bucky started slowly and pressed a chaste kiss to her forehead. “I am going to follow you where ever you’re going. You need to spend time in Minnesota, I’m there. You want to never leave the tower again? I’m fine with that. You want to quit this whole thing entirely and go back to working in a lab at some university anywhere in the world. I’m okay with that too. I don’t need anything else but you.”

Layne shook her head with a rueful smile on her face. “That’s dumb as fuck, James. I appreciate the sentiment, but you want things too and pretending that they don’t matter is just stupid. This isn’t a fairytale, or a Disney movie, this is real life and there’s two of us. We’re a partnership, yeah? And if we’re going to be a strong partnership we need to be honest with each other.

“I’m pissed you broke rank and order and left Sue to fend for herself. I’m angry because that caused you to get captured and hurt again. I was terrified, Bucky, more scared than I’ve ever been about anything in my life because I thought I was going to lose you again. But I’m frustrated and angry with myself because it should have always been a possibility on any of these missions that this could happen. I’m mad because I told Steve that he should stay behind because Natasha was coming home and I could handle this on my own and none of this would have probably happened if he had been there because that kid is glued to your fucking hip.”

Layne leaned up on her tip toes and pressed her lips to Bucky’s to stop whatever argument Bucky was about to spit out. “But it’s over now and you’re here with me and the kids are here and we’re going to figure this out. I love you so much.”

Bucky blinked the water out of his eyes and shook his head in disbelief. “I love you too, doll, I don’t know how I got so lucky with you.”

Layne bumped his nose with hers before capturing his lips again and kissing him deeply, a raw heat flaring behind it. When they parted to breath Layne have him a fiery look. “So, do we want to un-pause from earlier?”

Bucky growled low in his chest and slid his hands down to Layne’s waist, lifting her up and pressing her against the shower wall where she gasped at the cold towel and arched into his chest. He immediately dove to press a hard kiss to her throat but she hissed and he pulled away with guilt rising in his stomach.

Layne instantly brought her hands to his face and brought his eyes up to hers. She could see the sself-loathing and cold hatred clouding the blue of his eyes. “Hey. No, not now. Not ever.” She insisted kissing him softly to test the waters.

“But.”

“No. Shut up and love me.”

That was all it took. Bucky slammed off the water to the shower and Layne squealed, wrapping her legs around his waist as he walked her to the bedroom and threw her soaking wet on the bed.

#layne hardin x bucky barnes #Bucky Barnes #bucky fanfic #bucky barnes x ofc #bucky barnes fanfiction #shadows on the horizon #like a whisper in the night #avengers fanfiction #Avengers #marvel #marvel fanfiction

[navpike]

Situational Awareness

Steve McGarrett has a soulmark from the moment he’s born. He has a mark that his dad covers up when he’s a baby, an ugly black thing in the shape of knuckles splayed across his cheekbone. Danny Williams gets his mark a few months after he’s born. There’s a black smear across the back of his hand and down two fingers and Danny dreams of the day his soulmate will touch him for the first time and set the mark alight with color.

Steve McGarrett grows up hating his soulmark, Danny Williams dreams of the day he'll meet his soulmate. Somehow, against all odds, they find each other.

(for @naikia, whomst i owe my entire soul)

[on ao3]   [buy me a coffee?]

Steve McGarrett has a soulmark from the moment he’s born. He has a mark that his dad covers up when he’s a baby, an ugly black smear in the shape of knuckles splayed across his cheekbone.

His dad tells him it’s so people won’t ask questions, when he covers up the mark for Steve. By the time he’s old enough to cover it up on his own, though, Steve knows what it really is, without anyone having to say it. His dad covers up the mark because it’s ugly, because it means that the first time his soulmate touches him it will be angrily, because he’s not good enough for someone to really love. Even his soulmate won’t like him.

He never forgets to cover up his mark, even after his mom dies and his dad sends him away, even when he’s so consumed with grief that he can barely function, even then, he never forgets to cover it up.

When the day comes that Steve finally graduates from Annapolis, when he finally accepts his commission and ships off to BUD/S, he throws away what remains of the face paint he uses to cover the mark.

The first day of BUD/S is the first day Steve ever lets someone who isn’t his parents see his soulmark.

A couple of the guys make jokes about it, speculating wildly about what Steve’ll do to get his soulmate to deck him like that, and he wants to shrink away from the whole conversation, wants the floor to open up and swallow him whole so he can get away from this, but he doesn’t even so much as flinch. To do that would be to show weakness, and Steve refuses to so much as waver.

Later, he hears Freddie Hart mutter at the other guys, “What if that’s not the first time his soulmate’ll hit him? Have some basic fuckin’ decency, you don’t know what he’s gonna go through.”

After that, the other guys still get on his case about anything and everything else, but no one ever dares mention his soulmark again, and Steve decides he’d do just about anything to protect Freddie Hart.

Freddie becomes more like a brother than Steve ever knew someone could. Freddie is the one at Steve’s side when a man they’re interrogating starts making digs at Steve’s mark, jeering, “What kind of bitch would let a woman lay hands on him like that? How’d they even let someone like you in?”. Freddie is the one who looks the other way when Steve gives the man a set of bruises to mirror his mark.

Freddie is the one who takes Steve aside after they’ve gotten what they need,  who checks that Steve’s okay. Freddie is the one that tells Steve that he knows Steve will survive whatever his soulmate throws at him, that there’s nothing else Steve McGarrett could do, and that that makes him all that much stronger. Freddie is the one who helps Steve learn to bear his mark with pride instead of the shame he’s been carrying it with for years.

And Steve?

Steve is the one who gets Freddie killed.

Steve kind of hates himself for that.

~*~

Danny Williams gets his mark a few months after he’s born.

There’s a black smear across the back of his hand and down two fingers and Danny dreams of the day his soulmate will touch him for the first time and set the mark alight with color. He watches as his mom washes the dishes, watches the redpurpleorange swirled together in the mark on her wrist from where his dad had touched her for the first time. He thinks of meeting his soulmate the way his parents met, how they ran into each other, and his dad grabbed his mom to keep her upright, how they had known from just that moment that it was something real. Love at first sight.

His sisters tease him for it and Matty gets on his case like nobody’s business, for the way he dreams about meeting his soulmate. Matty says he’s being a girl. Bridget and Stella ask him why he seems more excited to meet his soulmate than even they are. His siblings tease him endlessly.

By the time he’s a teenager, he learns not to talk about it. He learns to keep that daydream to himself, because other kids can be ruthless, but he never lets go of it completely. He still finds himself drifting off each night to the idea of someone trailing their fingers down his hand, of his mark coming to life in a brilliant shock of colors. He imagines a soft smile and kind eyes and a feeling of home.

He knows that not everyone finds their soulmate. He knows the mark on his hand could stay dark forever. He knows that some people find their soulmate only to find out that their bond is nothing more than platonic.

He knows any number of things could happen.

He still hopes and daydreams.

His sisters find their soulmates fresh out of high school.

Matty doesn’t have a mark at all and he doesn’t care.

Danny is left wondering, and it’s wildly disheartening. He’s not that old but there’s this sense that he’s never going to find this person who should be such a big part of him and his life.

So when a pretty British lady with no visible mark and a very cute accent rear-ends him, he asks her out to dinner. Dinner turns into a second date, turns into a third, turns into more and suddenly he’s married to someone who isn’t his soulmate and has a daughter with her and it’s not the fantasy he had in his head as a kid, but Grace is the greatest goddamn thing that’s ever happened to him, so he’s sure as hell not going to complain.

That is until Rachel finds her soulmate and leaves Danny for that tool and takes his Gracie, the one completely good thing in his life, five thousand goddamn miles away from him.

Right then, he hates Rachel more than he’s ever hated anyone in his life.

Still, because he can handle losing Rachel, but he cannot handle losing his daughter, he packs up his entire life and he moves to a rock in the middle of the Pacific, where the only people he knows are his daughter, his ex-wife and his ex-wife’s newly found soulmate, Stan.

He would say he’s trying to make the best of it, but he’s really just trying to be bitter, because he thinks he’s earned the goddamn right.

~*~

Steve does not know what to make of Detective Danny Williams of the Honolulu Police Department, but he does know that he likes the way that Danny fills out his shirt.

That’s an issue, obviously, but Steve doesn’t let Danny know that it’s an issue.

Instead, he pulls his gun, and sneers at Danny’s stupid tie in the Hawai’i heat, and yells to try to get this feeling out, and pointedly ignores the way that Danny’s eyes flick to the black mark on his cheek.

He is not upset by the way Danny’s lip curls. He’s not.

~*~

He doesn’t know what he’s thinking, getting Danny reassigned to his shiny brand new task force.

He really doesn’t know what he’s thinking or what he’s doing or why he’s doing it or what he’s thinking.

But he does it, because he needs fresh eyes and there’s something drawing him to Danny that he can’t explain.

And because he’s like a magnet for bad luck, because he hurts everyone around him, because he is no good for anyone, he gets Danny shot. Danny goes down and for a long moment, Steve doesn’t see Danny. He doesn’t see Danny, he sees Freddie Hart and his heart fucking shatters in his chest just thinking about that. He has to take a split second to collect himself, to get back the air that was punched out of his chest, and then he’s off after their suspect.

Danny shoots the suspect in the head after that, and if Steve weren’t so busy being angry that they’ve just lost their only lead, Steve would be busy noticing how hot that look on Danny’s face is. As it is though, they have just lost their only lead to his father’s killer and Steve is royally pissed, so he is pointedly not noticing that.

Instead, he goes back into the house and finds a girl locked away, caged like she’s not human, and her eyes fix on Steve’s soulmark and he fumbles to a halt, crouched in front of her.

In what he hopes is the right language, he tells her, “You’re safe now, I won’t hurt you, I promise.”

She reaches out and gently touches Steve’s mark, the barest brush of fingers, and Steve can’t help the minute flinch back he makes.

“You’re going to be hurt?” she asks and Steve takes a breath and lets it out slowly, before nodding.

“I will be, and I have gotten hurt before, and I know it’s scary, but you will be okay. It will be okay again, one day. Will you let me help you?” he asks, the slightest tremor in his voice. He’d be embarrassed about it in any other situation, but not this one. He can’t be bothered now, not when the girl is letting him take her hand and help her out of this hellhole.

He gets her safely to an officer and lets himself just feel good about that for a minute, before he has to consider his next move. He’s almost feeling like he’s in a decent place to move forward, when Danny Fucking Williams crowds into his space, poking his finger into Steve’s face, and yelling and yelling and yelling.

Steve gives him a warning and he doesn’t listen to it, so Steve grabs the fingers Danny has shoved in his face and uses them to wrench Danny’s arm behind his back. He warns Danny again, and tells Danny that they don’t have to like each other, they just have to work together, and he feels a weird sort of buzzing feeling where he’s touching Danny that he ignores in favor of releasing Danny so that he can get back to working.

Steve doesn’t even have time to steady himself after shoving Danny away before he’s reeling from a vicious punch to the face. It doesn’t feel like a normal hit, either.

There’s a warmth spreading back from the point of contact, across his face and down into his bones and he thinks, oh. Danny’s my soulmate.

At the same time, Danny bites out, “You’re right. I don’t like you.” and he stalks away from Steve.

Steve claps a hand over his cheek and flees the scene after Danny, in what is certainly a very suspicious manner, and he speeds to the store and then he speeds home and avoids every mirror in the whole house and passes out still in his clothes from the day.

The next morning, he showers and gets dressed, and forces himself to examine the damage.

The mark on his face is a kaleidoscope of beautiful deep blues and purples, with shocks of fiery reds and oranges mixed in and it’s so stunningly gorgeous that Steve has to tear his eyes away from it after a second. Danny hadn’t given any indication of feeling anything, yesterday, and Steve hadn’t seen a mark on him. Not to mention his rather blatant statement of dislike for Steve. It must be an Abstract Bond, then, a bond only half formed. A disconnect between soulmates, where only one of them feels the connection.

Bitterly, Steve thinks that it’s probably because he’s so fucked up, because he’s so dysfunctional, because he’s so irreversibly damaged that he doesn’t deserve a soulmate. Then, for a split second he thinks maybe it’s Danny’s fault, but he tamps that down quickly. No way this is Danny’s fault. It must be his own.

And if it’s Steve’s fault, not Danny’s, there’s no way he’s going to let Danny bear any guilt for it. There’s no way he’s going to chance Danny feeling obligated to stick around with Steve just because Steve got stuck with half an Abstract Bond.

So, Steve pulls out the small pot and brush he’d hastily purchased at the store the day before, and, with skills he hasn’t used in years, he expertly covers his mark, until it’s a solid black thing again, no longer alight with extraordinary color. This is what he was destined for, probably. He should have been born without a mark.

It would have been less painful than this.

He lets himself wallow for five minutes, and then he screws the lid back on the little pot and tucks it and the brush away under the sink, and he goes to work.

He finds that he does not hate Danny, as much as he wants to. He finds that Danny does not hate him, not really, even though that would’ve made this all so much easier. He finds they work well together, actually, him and Danny, and Chin and Kono. He finds himself with a task force, a unit made up of his equals, that he can lead and be lead by. He finds he’s really excited to get started on this. The Coast Guard will fish Hesse’s body out of the harbor, and he will finally get to see that bastard put in the ground and he will have a new team at his side for all of it and he is excited.

And then he gets to their new office, and sees Danny staring at his hands. Steve’s heart sinks in his chest a little when he gets there and he sees Danny’s mark, vibrant as Danny himself is, spread across the back of his hand.

“You met your soulmate?” Steve asks, and he only just succeeds in keeping the tremor from his voice.

Danny covers the mark with his other hand. “I must’ve brushed up against them in all the chaos that’s been the last couple days. I didn’t even really notice it until I was packing up all my stuff at the station to move it over here. How’s that for situational awareness?” Danny jokes, and he actually seems to be a little amused by the situation, so Steve forces a smile to his face and hopes it doesn’t look as much like a grimace as it feels like.

He thinks he mostly succeeds, but he’s not taking chances, so he lets out what he hopes is a laugh, and excuses himself to his office and devotes too long to organizing his things and then goes home and swims until he thinks he’ll stop breathing if he keeps going. He showers, and he scrapes off the last remains of the cover-up paint, and he goes to bed.

He does not dream of Danny.

He does not.

(He does. He dreams of Danny and it’s such a nice dream, full of indulgences Steve has hardly let cross his mind before, and unadulterated happiness, in a way Steve has never felt. When he wakes up, and is hit with the realization that none of that can ever be real, Steve actually thinks he might cry. Instead, he runs for five miles and goes into work late, claiming a personal matter when Chin asks what kept him.

He does not look into Danny’s office to try to get a glimpse of Danny’s soul mark.

He really doesn’t.

He’s not that much of a masochist.)

~*~

He and Danny continue to work together. Danny is a very tactile person. Danny is, in particular, very tactile with their team, and even more so with Steve. There’s an electricity that crackles across his skin every time Danny touches him that sets a feeling simmering in his gut that he has to tamp down viciously in order to continue functioning like a normal human being. He invests a serious amount of effort into ignoring the way Danny makes him feel, ignoring the twisting, writhing thing that’s settled in his chest. It wraps itself around his ribs and pushes and presses and pulls at them, it constricts his heart and lungs and makes it hard to breathe every time he thinks about Danny. Steve knows it’s the bond, trying to get him to accept it, to accept Danny, just like he knows it’ll never actually happen because he’s got too much baggage. He’s damaged goods. He’s not worth Danny Williams.

It’s a physical ache, watching Danny search for his soulmate. Danny goes over the days he could’ve met his soulmate whenever he gets free time, over and over and over again, retracing his steps and pulling footage from traffic cams in a desperate attempt to find the person he’s meant to spend the rest of his life with. Chin and Kono are helping him, turning it into something of a game, in an effort to cheer Danny up, because he’s a little upset that he missed such a big moment.

God, Steve wishes that he could’ve missed finding his soulmate. It’d be a whole hell of a lot easier if he didn’t know that he’d spend the rest of his life knowing that his soulmate had someone else.

It’s too much, for him to try to stick around when Danny gets on about his soulmate. It’s the cause of more than a few arguments between the two of them, and after a while, Steve starts leaving the room when the topic of soulmates comes up. He doesn’t want to be bitter. He doesn’t want to put a damper on everyone’s moods, especially when Kono comes back with her mark swimming bright pink and blue and a smile on her face. Adam Noshimuri is in for the shovel talk of his life, and Steve’s chest aches. Knowing that Kono and Chin have found their soulmates, knowing that Kono has Adam, and knowing that Chin has Malia, who doesn’t ever push Chin about his mysterious second soulmark, and knowing that Danny has his mystery soulmate, it makes Steve want to hide himself away from his team. He feels like he’ll ruin them, dim their light by standing around with his darkness for too long.

He knows, logically, that he’s being ridiculous and that he’s wallowing and throwing himself a truly spectacular pity party. But with everyone finding their happiness, and Steve having to just watch on from the sidelines, he thinks he’s earned some self-pity rights.

So he continues to excuse himself from soulmate conversations.

Just once, he lingers outside the door to hear what his teammates have to say about his sudden departure from what had been a mild conversation, and it’s the last he ever tries something like that.

As he’s listening, he hears someone shuffling and a throat clearing and after a long pause, Danny asking, “What is it with McGarrett and soulmates?”

Someone, Chin, sighs and says, “Steve’s always been cagey about his mark. As long as I’ve known him. He has the imprint of a fist on his face, you can’t blame the guy for being like that. Not to mention the way he was raised to think about it.”

Something hits a table with a loud smack, a hard copy of a case file, maybe, and Danny makes a noise in the back of his throat. “What do you mean?”

Chin sighs again, heavier this time. “You notice that in all of the pictures of Steve when he was younger, he has no mark?”

“Someone taught him to cover it up?”

“You don’t pick that up from just anyone. It must’ve been his parents. I’m sure they were just trying to protect him, you see the looks that people give Steve’s mark even now, but being made to cover your mark like that from such a young age? It’s gotta have a lasting impact. I don’t think Steve let anyone see his mark until he made it to BUD/S and there was no way for him to keep it covered anymore.”

“Jesus,” Danny breathes, so quiet Steve almost doesn’t hear it. “No wonder the guy hates talk about soulmarks. Christ, his parents practically raised him to hate his. What the… just. Wow.”

“Don’t bring any of this up, you don’t want to do that to him. Just, keep it in mind, I guess,” Chin warns and Steve assumes that Danny nods or something, but he doesn’t really stick around long enough to hear if there is a verbal response as well.

He shoots Kono a text to say that he’s leaving early and he flees Iolani Palace like a coward.

He hates that his team is worrying about him. He’s their Commander. Their boss. Whatever he is to this team. He’s the one who’s meant to worry about them, not the other way around. It makes something unpleasant curl in his gut, knowing he’s worrying them.

So he takes the rest of the day to have a private pity party and he goes in to work the next day with a new mask to wear and a determination to stop worrying his teammates about his stupid soulmate hangups.

And it works.

It works well enough for a long, long time.

Until, of course, Danny Fucking Williams throws a wrench in the whole thing.

~*~

It goes like this.

They’re at Steve’s house for an evening in, the whole team, their whole ‘ohana, grilling surf and turf out in the backyard, Chin and Danny lounging on the lanai while Steve and Kono man the grill, Malia, Adam, Max and Sabrina having taken over the table already.

They have a good time, most of them drink too much and Chin and Kono both have to half drag their spouses back to their cars at the end of the night. Max and Sabrina leave in a much more dignified manner, with quiet smiles and goodbyes and then it’s just Steve and Danny.

Danny, who is far too drunk to drive himself anywhere.

Steve makes the executive decision that Danny will be staying the night.

Purely for safety reasons of course.

He sets about making up the guest room for Danny to stay in, determinedly not thinking about how much will power it’s going to take to just leave Danny by himself when every fiber of Steve’s being is aching to keep Danny close to him.

He sighs and chalks it up to his current state of inebriation that he’s feeling so sappy. He usually has a better handle on his stupid pining feelings.

Danny’s eyes are half lidded when Steve gets back downstairs, and he’s got a dopey smile on his face that makes Steve’s heart melt.

“You’re a good friend, Stevie,” Danny half-slurs as Steve helps him to his feet, and Steve’s lungs stop working for a second when Danny clutches at him in a sloppy half-hug, and he has to gasp to catch his breath. He thanks whatever gods are up there that Danny’s too intoxicated to notice his slip up, and gets Danny up the stairs and into bed without further incident.

He vaguely remembers setting out a glass of water and some advil for Danny and the same for himself after that, and then collapsing into bed and passing out almost instantly.

~*~

When he sleeps, he dreams, a really rather pleasant dream. In the dream, his bond with Danny isn’t abstract. It’s not dysfunctional.

In the dream, Danny isn’t in a bed down the hall, he’s sharing one with Steve, tucked under Steve’s arm and held close against Steve’s chest. Gracie is in the spare room down the hall, the walls painted light blue and plastered with posters she keeps bringing home.

In the dream Steve wakes up before Danny and sneaks out of bed, and pads down the hall to Grace’s room, wakes her up with a gentle touch on the shoulder. She grumbles a little, but eventually rolls out of bed with a sleepy smile and follows Steve to the kitchen.

In the dream, he and Grace work together to piece together a breakfast of pancakes and bacon and fresh fruit, and the pancakes are not pretty, but Grace demands they taste test them, and they do taste a lot better than they look. She declares it with a grin on her face, and then proceeds to get pancake batter all over Steve’s face and the countertop and he can’t help his laughter.

In the dream, their laughter wakes Danny, and Danny comes creeping into the kitchen, sneaking up behind Grace to poke her sides and make her squeal. She gets pancake batter on Danny next and soon they have a batch of half burned pancakes because they got distracted laughing and cleaning pancake batter off of faces and hands.

In the dream, Steve’s soulmark isn’t on his face. It’s somewhere kinder, somewhere that doesn’t display how much his soulmate can’t stand him.

In the dream, Danny presses a kiss to the swirling color of Steve’s mark, and Steve returns the gesture and Grace fake gags and tells them they’re gross and that when she finds her soulmate, she won’t be nearly as disgusting with them.

In the dream, Danny raises his eyebrows and scoffs and tells Grace she’s never allowed to grow up and find her soulmate and get married, she’s got to stay little forever and she snorts and protests loudly.

In the dream, Steve’s heart is full to bursting with his little family there with him, with how content he is to really feel loved.

In the dream, Steve is happy.

And then he wakes up with a headache and the roll of nausea in his gut, and the nausea is not what’s making him feel this ill.

~*~

A water bottle and granola bar settle the queasy feeling in his stomach, and a few Advil settle the raging headache behind his eyes, and Steve lets out a heavy sigh. The dream he had last night left him feeling hollow and empty inside, and he kind of wants to wrap himself up in a blanket and hide from the world all day or swim until his lungs burn or run until his muscles scream. Something. He’s not sure. He’s just thinking that he really should stop indulging in this self-pity when Danny comes into the kitchen with an empty glass and the bottle of Advil Steve had left out for him the night before.

Steve forces himself out of his pity party and smirks at Danny.

“Don’t. Don’t you dare, McGarrett. I don’t know what Super SEAL gene you have that makes you immune to it, but the rest of us normal folks get hungover when we drink like we all did last night,” Danny mutters miserably, letting out a pathetic sounding groan when he finishes speaking. Steve wants to run his hands through Danny’s hair.

He does not.

He takes the glass from Danny’s hands and fills it again, and presses it back into Danny’s hand. “You need to hydrate.”

Danny grumbles, but he listens. “You got a spare toothbrush? My mouth tastes like a wet dog.” Steve raises an eyebrow at that and Danny scowls. “Shut up. Shut up. You didn’t say anything, but I know you were thinking it. Don’t say a word, unless it’s to tell me where I can find a toothbrush.”

Steve chuckles, and shakes his head. “In the bathroom off my room. Should be a spare one under the sink.”

Danny lets out a sigh of relief and gives Steve a pained looking smile, and sets the half-empty glass on the table and heads up the stairs. Steve has a split second of silence before alarm bells go off in his head, and Danny comes thudding back down the stairs, holding the cover up paint that Steve had momentarily forgotten about.

“Steven, what the hell is this?” Danny demands in a low, deadly calm voice.

Steve’s heart seizes in his chest and he stops breathing for a long moment. When he doesn’t answer, Danny slams the container down on the table, and storms over to Steve. Before he can even move to defend himself, frozen by fear, Danny’s reaching for Steve’s face.

The day old paint comes off with one strong swipe of Danny’s thumb and Steve flinches away from his touch.

“Steve,” Danny says, his voice impossibly soft.

“I-I can explain,” Steve says, an uncharacteristic stumble in his words. His heart is hammering. His chest aches. He feels like he can’t breathe.

Danny takes a few steps back and gives Steve such a wounded look Steve nearly tears up.

“You found your soulmate? And you’ve been hiding it? Why?”

“I-” Steve fights for the right words to explain himself, not sure how to get himself out of this one. “I-I mean they-they, uh.”

Danny’s gaze drops from Steve’s soulmark, giving Steve a quick once over. It settles on the bruises up and down Steve’s arms, from Steve’s last sparring session with Kono.

Steve can see it in Danny’s eyes the moment all of the wrong pieces click together in Danny’s mind. He can see it, because suddenly there’s murder written in the lines of Danny’s face, in the set of his jaw, in the furrow of his brow.

“They’re hitting you,” Danny says. He does not try to sugar coat it. “They’re hitting you and you’re lying for them. Why?”

Steve can’t make his mouth work. It opens and closes, like a fish, and nothing comes out. He just stares in shock and horror as Danny throws his hands into the air, and then pokes his finger towards Steve, demanding and concerned all rolled into one expression.

“Steve, who the fuck is it? Who is doing this to you? Just because they’re your soulmate does not mean that you have to cover for them. Being someone’s soulmate does not give someone license to hurt you like this and just because they’re your soulmate does not mean you have to tolerate this from them. We see cases like this at work all the time. You are just as deserving of and entitled to a sense of safety as every one of the people we’ve helped. Your well-being is more important than some stupid bond.” Steve opens his mouth and chokes on his words and Danny’s face falls, his expression turning so horribly miserable that Steve wants to cry. He does not, because he is not that kind of person, but he thinks about it. “Steve, hey, come on. Please talk to me. Let me help you. Who did this to you?”

Steve takes a deep breath and closes his eyes because he can’t look Danny in the eye while he says this. He debates lying for half a second, before he decides that’d cause so many more issues that it’s not worth it.

“You did,” Steve says, in a voice so unlike his own, he doesn’t recognize it, even as he’s saying the words. “You, when we were trying to hunt down Hesse. You-” Realization dawns on Danny’s face, followed by unconcealed horror, and Steve breaks off. He doesn’t have to continue. Danny knows what he’s talking about.

“Oh,” is all Danny has to say.

“This,” Steve mutters, raising one arm, “is from Kono. We were sparring a couple days ago. She doesn’t pull her punches.”

“Right, yeah, no, of course,” Danny says. He glances back at the pot of cover up paint on the table.

“You don’t have to feel obligated to anything. I know you’re looking for your soulmate, I know you’ve got someone waiting out there for you. It’s not your fault that I have an Abstract Bond,” Steve says quickly, wanting to reassure Danny that he doesn’t hold it against him.

“No, but it is my fault that you’ve got a mark in the shape of a fist on your face,” Danny mumbles, and Steve doesn’t think he was really meant to hear that. Louder, Danny says, “I think I should go.”

He barely pauses to grab his keys and his wallet before he flees the house like it’s on fucking fire. Steve sits down at the kitchen table and stares blankly at the stupid pot of cover up paint, and silently berates himself for his carelessness and idiocy, and if a few stray tear escape before he can scrub them away?

There’s no one around to see it anyway.

~*~

Steve debates going back to bed and staying there for the rest of eternity.

Ultimately, he decides against that, because he is a grown ass man, a highly trained Navy SEAL. He can handle some unpleasant emotions. He’s fine. He’s dealt with far worse before. He’s fine.

So instead of crawling into bed and hiding from the world he showers away the sticky feeling of a morning after a night of drinking, and he throws on a swim suit and swims until his lungs can’t take it anymore. He showers again when he gets back and scrubs his skin until it’s pink and the bruises on his arms stand out even more, and smiles bitterly at them. After he scrubs his face he watches the last flecks of dried paint circle around the drain, continues staring long after they’re gone.

He gets out of the shower and mechanically covers the mark and forces himself to eat. He cleans his gun for something to do. Polishes his badge. Does all the dishes from the night before by hand.

The next thing he knows it’s growing dark out, and he finally lets himself go to bed, curls up and falls into a restless sleep.

This time, when he dreams it is not pleasant. Tonight, his dreams are nightmares, full of wicked grins and guns and fists swung towards his face.

He doesn’t feel well rested when he wakes.

~*~

In the morning, he gets up and throws on the first thing he finds and tugs on his sneakers and sets off on the longest run he’s been on in months.

By the time he gets home, his calves are screaming and his knees ache and he’s covered in sweat and his whole body is trembling, but at least he’s focused on the physical discomfort instead of the soul deep hurt that he feels over the rejected soulbond.

He drags himself into his house, and into the kitchen, digging through the fridge to find the orange juice. He takes a swig straight from the jug and barely has it back in the fridge when his front door slams open. Steve shuts the fridge and dives for a kitchen knife, cursing himself for forgetting to lock the front door behind himself.

“You absolute idiot!” Danny shouts, as he comes storming into the kitchen.

Steve’s hand trembles where he’s holding onto the knife he’d wrestled from the block in a panic, his body still exhausted from his run.

Danny doesn’t even pause at the sight of the knife. He strides across the kitchen and gently pulls the knife from Steve’s shaking hands and places it on the counter.

Steve can’t even voice his confusion, barely has time to show it on his face, before Danny’s pulling at his shoulders. Steve really doesn’t have the energy to do much else, so he lets Danny tug him down to his level.

And then Danny’s hands are cupping his face, and Danny whispers, “Stop me if you need to,” and kisses Steve like he is a damned man and Steve is his salvation.

Steve’s knees give out underneath him, and Danny breaks the kiss and catches him, pressing him into the counter behind him to keep him upright.

“Hey, hey, Steve, you okay?” Danny asks, soft and a little sad and Steve nods stupidly, his mouth hanging open just a little. “Was that okay?”

“You have a soulmate,” Steve says, by way of an answer.

Danny fists his hands in Steve’s shirt for a moment, still pressed completely into Steve, leaned up against the counter. Danny sighs, and releases him after a long moment. Steve watches silently as Danny wets a folded paper towel and steps up to him again, reaching for his face, and ever so gently wiping away the cover up paint. He just stares at Steve’s soulmark for a moment before he holds up the hand that bears his own mark.

“I do have a soulmate,” Danny says. “You. Steve, our colors are the same. And this? This mark? This is where you touched me, for the first time. Just before I-” Danny cuts off and brushes his fingers over Steve’s mark almost reverently. “I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry I did this to you. I’m so sorry that I didn’t realize that you were- that we-”

Steve just blinks at Danny for a second, opens and closes his mouth a few times.

“I threatened to break your fingers,” he finally says, and then smacks himself in the forehead.

Danny laughs, and Steve wishes he could hear that sound all the time.

“Yeah, and then I decked you, and didn’t realize that we’d set off each other’s marks.” He takes Steve’s hands and kisses his knuckles before squeezing them. “Will you forgive me? For…” Danny trails off and makes a wide sweeping gesture, between them. “All of this. For not realizing. For leaving you with that mark. Just, all of it.”

Steve shakes his head. “No, you don’t- there’s nothing to apologize for. Not you. I should- I mean, I lied to you, Danno. I kept it-”

“Oh put a sock in it, you big lug. We both did some jumping to conclusions, huh?” Danny huffs out and amused sound. “Quite the pair we are, aren’t we?”

Steve looks at Danny, at the smile crinkling the corners of his eyes, and he can’t bother being worried anymore. Not when his soulmate is smiling at him like that.

He opens his mouth to say something. Probably to apologize again. Danny cuts him off.

“I don’t want to hear anything more from you until you’ve showered, you animal. What is this, you’re disgusting. Go, shower, I’m not going anywhere.”

Steve hesitates, decides, fuck it, and pulls Danny close to press a kiss to his forehead, leaving sweaty marks all over Danny’s shirt in the process.

He flees upstairs to shower, Danny’s half-angry “Neanderthal!” following him as he ascends the stairs, and the aching thing that has been twisting in between his ribs for months finally, finally settles.

Steve looks at himself in the mirror when he reaches his bathroom, and for the first time, he see his soulmark, and he smiles.

#mcdanno #steve mcgarrett #danny williams #hawaii five 0 #chin ho kelly #kono kalakaua #grace williams #fic #soulmate au #mine

[missslothy]

Jot it down July - H50 Fic

Title: Divine Intervention

Rating: Mature

Summary:  What if the reason Danny and Steve have never got together is not their fault?  

Notes: This is AU.  I originally started writing this last weekend, for Jot it down July – I was going to post it on Monday = Museday.  Real life decided that wasn’t going to happen.  It’s not going to happen this Monday either ☹ So I’m posting today 😊

The Gods mentioned in this story are:

Apollo – God of music, poetry, knowledge, medicine etc.

Aphrodite – Godess of love, beauty and procreation.

Ares – God of war.

 H50H50H50

Somewhere up in the heavens…

Apollo comes to a halt when he spots Aphrodite sitting in the garden in front of him.  It crosses his mind to hide behind the nearest marble column.  She looks morose, staring sightlessly into a fountain.

Sighing, he rummages around in the pocket of his white toga, pulling out a small wax tablet.  Running his eyes down the inscription he purses his lips. 

Aphrodite’s the Godess of love, beauty, pleasure and procreation.  If she’s happy all the Gods were happy.  And if she isn’t all hell would break loose.  So, Zeus had decreed that each of them would take it in turns to make sure she was happy.

According to the schedule on the accursed tablet in his hand it was his turn to keep her entertained.

Squaring his shoulders, Apollo approaches her bench.  Something on Aphrodite’s lap shifts, slowly morphing out of her white dress.  It’s a small, smooth-haired white cat.  It turns, staring straight at him.  With a jaw-popping yawn it regards him with distain before making itself comfortable in Aphrodite’s lap again.

“I’m vexed,” Aphrodite sighs deeply as he takes the seat beside her.  “These humans are just so…”

“Vexing?” Apollo suggests helpfully as she trails off. 

Aphrodite rests her chin on her hand.  Wrinkling up her nose she stares into the fountain again. 

Apollo waits patiently.  Anyone else would look ugly with a scrunched up face, he muses.  Aphrodite is still stunningly beautiful.  No wonder the other Gods are lining up to warm her bed.

Aphrodite waves her hand at the fountain, breaking into his thoughts.  The flow of water parts to show an image from the world below.  Two men are walking out of the sea, side by side.  One is tall, dark haired and long limbed.  The other is shorter, his golden damp hair glittering in the sun. 

Apollo whistles under his breath.  Both men are well-built, chest muscles rippling as they walked.  Their water-dappled flesh glistens like precious stones.

“They’re beautiful, aren’t they?” Aphrodite breathes, leaning forward, spray from the fountain marking the hem of her ankle-length white silk dress.

“Breath-taking,” Apollo agrees, his mission to keep Aphrodite happy forgotten in the face of such masculine beauty.  “Who are they?”

Sitting back, Aphrodite folds her hands together, resting them in her lap.  The cat grumbles  then jumps down to curl around her sandaled feet.  “Steve McGarrett and Danny Williams.”  Frowning, she struggles to recall something.  “They come from Hawaii,” she continues after a pause.  “It’s an island in the Pacific.”

“Hawaii.”  Apollo nods.  He knows the place: it’s an island of artists and music, of warriors and peace makers.  He hoped to visit it one day.  Soon, he decides, as he watches the two men jog through the sand.  Something catches his eye, a shimmer of colour around both men that blocks out the sun.  They have an aura.  It was red.  Blood red.

Shocked, he jerks back.  “They have bleeding hearts.”

Aphrodite covers her eyes with her hand.  “They are broken.”

Apollo shuffles in closer, still transfixed by the image from the world below.  These men were perfect – almost perfect. “Then you must fix them.  You must find out what ails them.”

Aphrodite’s blue’s eyes flash to black.  “Don’t you think I’ve tried?  I thought they wanted life partners,” she huffs, her opinion on that particular relationship status obvious, “but every time I gave them a girlfriend they just…gave up.”

Apollo frowns, watching the two men towelling off.  They’re standing close together.  So close together.  Steve pats Danny on the shoulder, touching just a split second too long.  As they collect their things together Danny’s fingers brush along the top of Steve’s swimming attire, stroking Steve’s hip. 

Apollo licks his suddenly dry lips.  “They love each other?”

“That’s what I thought.” Aphrodite’s suddenly animated.  “But I’ve tried everything to get them together and they still won’t do what I want.” Crossing her arms, she pouts like a spoilt child.

Apollo reminds himself of the real reason he’s here.  Swallowing the laugh that’s threatening to escape, he adopts a serious face.  “Are you sure you’ve tried everything?” he says consolingly.  “Perhaps there is something you’ve missed?”

“There isn’t.” Aphrodite hugs herself.  “I’ve tried parting them in the hope they would pine.  I’ve put them together for three days, all day and all night, but all they did was argue,” she sighs, reaching down to stroke the cat who, to Apollo’s surprise, seems to sigh too. “Not even putting them in peril made a difference.  They’re so annoying.”

They’re annoying and they’re upsetting Aphrodite, Apollo thinks.  He can already feel his own stress levels rising, a direct effect of her mood.  It’s time for more direct measures….

H50H50H50

Back on earth…

Steve tightens his grip on the tree root.  Swinging his leg up, he gets a toe hold on a rock that’s sticking out.  Levering himself up enables him to find another tree root to wrap his other hand around. It’s not enough to get him back up to the top of the cliff but at least he’s secure.  For now.

Taking a deep breath, he yells for help.  Then he yells a few more times.  When his voice threatens to give up he pauses to revaluate the situation.

He’s hanging off the side of a muddy cliff.  The top’s about ten foot away.  Below him is a life-threatening thirty-foot drop.  How he got here is not entirely clear to him.  One moment he’d been out running, listening to music on his headphones.  The next, he’d been tripped over and before he knew it, he’d slipped over the cliff.  Luckily, it doesn’t feel like he’s broken anything.  How the hell he got that lucky, he has no idea.

Now all he has to do is get out of here.

“Steve?  Steve, you out here?”

It’s takes Steve a moment or two to realise it is actually Danny who is calling his name.  In fact it’s not until Lou’s yelling voice joins Danny’s that his brain finally acknowledges what’s going on.  He starts yelling too, as loud as his voice will go.

A short-while later Danny appears, attached to a rope.  There’s more yelling, some cursing, but eventually they get to the top of the cliff.  Steve lets Lou pull him over the top then he rolls onto his back, panting hard. 

“How’d you find me?” Steve gets out between gulps of air. There hadn’t been anyone else out on the road.

Danny’s face appears, obscuring his view of the sky. 

“Someone called it in,” Danny explains as he runs his hands over Steve’s chest, gently prodding and pulling.  “Lou and I were just about to pay a visit to our suspect when the call came in that someone had gone over the cliff.  Duke knew we were in the vicinity so he asked us to check it out.”

Steve lets his eyes drift closed.  Danny’s hands are moving lower, checking the rigidity of his belly, then going lower to smooth across his hips.

“Hey.  Hey.  Don’t fall asleep on me.”

“I’m not,” Steve answers truthfully, keeping his eyes closed.  Sleep’s the last thing on his mind. 

“You wanna tell us what happened?”

Lou’s voice is gentle but insistent.  Reluctantly Steve opens his eyes.

“I don’t know.”  He looks away, avoiding Danny’s gaze.  “I was running.  Then I think…maybe I tripped.”

“Maybe?”  Danny’s hands transfer to Steve’s head, running through his hair.  “Are you sure you didn’t hit your head?”

“You tripped?”  Lou sounds equally unconvinced.

“Yeah.”  Steve bats away Danny’s hands.  Carefully he levers himself up onto his elbows.  “There was a cat, a white cat.  I wasn’t looking.  It came out of nowhere—”

“A white cat?”  Danny pushes himself up from his kneeling position next to Steve.  Crouching, he hovers instead.  He frowns.  “You sure about that?”

Steve runs the conversation back through his mind, looking for whatever he’s apparently missed.  His heart sinks.  “Danny…”

“Okay, you’re gonna get checked out,” Danny insists, reaching out a hand to help Steve up.

Steve hesitates, making his feelings known.  Lips pursed together, he lets Danny pull him up.

“Someone want to tell me what’s going on?” Lou says to no one in particular.

“Steve has a record with white cats,” Danny explains, emphasising the last two words.  “Last week he almost crashed his truck because a white cat ran in front of him.”

Steve plants his feet in the ground.  “It did.”

Danny studies him.  His expression softens as he tucks himself under Steve’s arm.  “I’m not saying it didn’t,” he says, nudging them forward.  “What I am saying is that if you’re seeing white cats again then maybe it’s time we got the doc to check you out, okay?”

“It was just one cat,” Steve mutters but he lets himself be led.  Danny’s arm is around his waist, sitting easily just above his ass.  Warmth seeps into his skin.  Sparks of pleasure skip across his nerves endings.

The hairs on the back of his neck prickle in warning.

Instinctively, he halts.  Pulling away from Danny, he spins round.  Eyes darting left and right, he checks out the area around them.  Behind him he’s aware that Danny and Lou have stopped.

“Everything okay?” Danny asks.

Steve mentally shakes himself.  Turning back, he winces.  The sudden movements have revealed new cuts and bruises.  “Thought someone was watching us,” he confesses, his cheeks turning pink.  Sparing one last glance up at the sky, he tucks Danny back under his arm.

Lou hangs back, eyebrows meeting in the middle as he surveys their surroundings.

“Welcome to my world, Lou,” Danny calls back to him with a long-suffering sigh.  “He’s been imagining for weeks that someone’s been watching us.” He points at the sky.  “Someone up there.”

H50H50H50H50

Back up in the heavens…

Aphrodite waves her hand and the scene in the waterfall goes dark.

Apollo throws his hands up in despair.  “They didn’t kiss.”

Aphrodite shrugs.  She looks smug.  “I did warn you.”

“They didn’t kiss.” Apollo jumps to his feet and starts pacing.  This isn’t acceptable.  It’s not acceptable at all.  “They were touching.  There were sparks…they were both enjoying it.  So why didn’t they kiss?”

Apollo spins round and paces around the fountain.  As he passes Aphrodite she shrugs at him again.

He’s beginning to hate her shrugs.

Hunkering back down beside her on the marble bench, he considers their options.  “We need to make the situations more dangerous.  They will not be able to deny their feelings for each other then.”

Aphrodite tugs at her ear, her gaze distant.  “I’ve tortured Steve, several times.”

Apollo nods, filing that information away.

“He’s jumped off high bridges, been exposed to nuclear radiation.”

“Okay.” Apollo ticks those off his rapidly shortening list of perilous situations.  Humans are fragile: the list isn’t endless.

“I’ve even destroyed his liver.”

“Really?”

“Really.”  Aphrodite looks super-smug now.

Apollo nods, quietly impressed.  That was a gutsy, dangerous move.  “So what happened after that?”

She rests her chin on both fists. Her body deflates.  “Danny gave him his liver.”

“No.”  Apollo snaps his jaw shut.  “No.  They couldn’t have…no one could have resisted that.”

Aphrodite folds even further into herself.  “They did.”

Apollo covers his face with his hands.  “They are so annoying.”

They both sit silently, lost in their misery.  Time passes.  So absorbed are they in their own thoughts they don’t hear the footsteps approaching at first.

“Apollo!  You are neglecting your duties!”

Apollo scowls as he turns.  There’s no mistaking the voice.  Ares, the God of War, is used to making his voice heard.  They all get to hear it a lot.

Beside him, Aphrodite half-smiles and flutter her eyelashes as Ares approaches.  Apollo forces himself not to groan out loud at her behaviour.  She might be a married woman but they all know who she is really in love with.

Aphrodite pats the bench beside her, inviting Ares to sit down.  “Apollo’s been trying to help me with these humans,” she coos, “but he doesn’t know how to heal their broken hearts.”

Apollo bites his lip against the implied slight she’s just delivered.  Instead, he concentrates on Ares’s face.  He has to struggle not to laugh.  Ares is way out of his comfort zone.  This might actually be fun.

Settling back, he watches as Aphrodite waves her hand and the image in the waterfall rematerializes. 

Steve and Danny are in a bedroom.  Steve’s laying on the bed.  The shorts he’s wearing don’t leave much to the imagination.  Danny’s dressed in a tee-shirt and shorts and he’s leaning over Steve, wiping something on the cuts and bruises that litter his skin. Their bodies are only inches apart.

Apollo squirms uncomfortably on the bench. Self-consciously he rests his arm across his crotch.  Beside him Aphrodite is breathing heavily.  He finds that reassuring.

Ares appears to be oblivious to both of them.  He’s staring at the scene, stroking his chin.  Eventually he stirs himself to start asking questions, to find out what they’ve already done.  Once they’ve finished explaining they fall silent again and wait.

Eyes narrowing, Ares glares at the image.  “They are soldiers, are they not?”

Apollo shrugs.  It’s not strictly true but they have both seen battle.  Aphrodite nods.

Ares sits up straight, slapping his hands on his thighs.  “Soldiers do not need thoughts.  They need action.”

Before Apollo can ask what that means, Ares snaps his fingers.  Steve and Danny’s bodies jerk.  In a blink of an eye, they collide.  The sound of their heads connecting rings out.  The sheer force of their collision makes them both bounce back.  With a surprised curse, Danny lands on his ass on the floor.

Slowly, Aphrodite turns to face Ares. “What was that?”

Ares looks her in the eyes.  “Kissing.  Isn’t that what you wanted?”

Not really, Apollo thinks, rolling his eyes.  Trust a warmongering idiot like Ares to think that was enough. 

Aphrodite smiles though as Ares clicks his fingers and replays the scene.  Steve and Danny’s lips do meet – barely.  Aphrodite smiles wider.  She pulls Ares down for a kiss of his own.

“I knew there was a reason I loved you,” she purrs as Ares gets up, pulling her to her feet.  The cat stretches, then curls itself around Aphrodite’s ankles.

As they disappear out of the garden, Apollo shakes his head.  This really has been a disappointing interlude.  Looking at the image doesn’t improve his mood at all.  The two idiots on earth are still talking.  Still.  Perhaps he won’t go to Hawaii after all, if everyone is as idiotic as these two men.

Waving his hand, he blanks out the image again.  Walking away, he sighs.  Some people just don’t deserve the benefits of divine intervention.

They really don’t.

H50H50H50

Steve rolls onto his side, cupping his nose with his hand.  Experience tells him it’s not broken but it hurts like hell.  “Ow.”

A groan from the floor gets his attention.  Gingerly, he hangs over the edge of the bed to check it out.

Danny glares back.  He’s sprawled across the floor. “What the hell was that?”  He daps at his nose with his fingers, his face relaxing minutely as they come away free of blood.

“Hey, I didn’t do anything.”  Steve raises his hands defensively.  Wincing, he pushes himself upright and slides off the bed.  “You okay?  I don’t know what—”

“I’m fine.”

Danny’s expression suggests otherwise but Steve lets him have the lie.  Helping him to his feet, they stagger back to the bed, perching on the edge of it.

“I swear, I didn’t do anything,” Steve starts but Danny waves him to silence with his hand.  Twisting sideways, he looks straight into Steve’s eyes. 

“You kissed me.”

“No I didn’t.”  Steve holds his gaze, his eyebrows joining in a frown.  It might only have been for a split-second but it’s a moment he’ll never forget.   “You kissed me.”

Danny’s eyebrows drop into a matching frown. He rubs the back of his neck. Looking away, he exhales loudly.  When he looks back, doubt is written across his face.  “Okay.  This is gonna sound weird but…but for a second there…for a second it felt like someone…made me move.”

Steve feels his heart stop.  He reminds himself to breathe.  “Like someone picked you up and moved you?”

“Yeah.”  Danny grimaces, his cheeks reddening from embarrassment.  Then he looks at Steve’s face again.  Really looks.  Understanding dawns.  “You felt it too.”

Steve scratches one of the numerous tiny cuts on his arms, inflicted when he fell off the cliff.  They sting like hell.  “I’ve felt it before,” he admits.  “Just now.  Today, at the cliff.  When I nearly crashed the truck.”  The list was longer than that – much longer – but he’s already walking on dangerous ground.  It’s a touchy subject between them.

Danny rubs at his face, with both hands.  “So what we’re saying,” he says finally, jerking his chin upwards, “is that those guys up there are real and—”

“We talked about this.  I know you don’t believe in them.  I respect that but don’t reject my—”

Danny gently places a finger on Steve’s lips, bringing him to a halt.

“So what we’re saying,” Danny starts again, his tone warm and fond, “is that the Gods think we should be kissing.  Am I right?”

Steve blinks at the sudden left turn the conversation’s taken.  Lost for words he nods. Enthusiastically.

“And you really want me to kiss you?”

Steve nods more.  He wants it so much.

It seems like forever before Danny’s lips touch his. Closing his eyes, Steve leans in, claiming Danny’s hips with his hands.  Hauling Danny closer, he deepens the kiss.  Danny groans, deep and needy, his hands grabbing for purchase, sliding over Steve’s skin.

Danny’s touch sends a spark of pleasure down Steve’s spine.  Skin suddenly hyper-sensitive he twitches, a full body twitch down to his toes.  Rolling back onto the bed he takes Danny with him, groaning in return as their bodies rub together in all the right ways.

Steve protests when Danny pulls away, sliding off the bed.  But then his brain catches up again. Stretching out on the pillows, he laughs as Danny hops and curses as he struggles to strip.  Then Danny’s naked and gorgeous, crawling back up the bed towards him. Eagerly he hauls him back in, claims his lips for another much longer kiss. 

Time blurs.  His brain empties of all thoughts.  The next time he can string two words together it’s several hours later.  And Danny’s asleep in his arms.

Humming happily to himself, he buries his nose into Danny’s hair and breathes.  Danny mutters something, shuffles, then goes back to sleep.  Steve watches him for a while, wondering how he’d denied himself this for so long – why they both had.

They’d both been idiots, he thinks, as his eyelids finally slide closed.   

There’s no point arguing with the Gods.

The end

#jot it down July #h5o fic #Steve McGarrett #Danny Williams #McDanno

[mrvdocks]

Plus One

Things get real. Can you totally hide your feelings for Steve any longer? 

smut warning

(chapter four) @mochminnie @wolfish-willow

You’re in the bathroom trying not to freak out or let it show just how much your mind was reeling from earlier. It couldn’t be happening, right? There’s no way you were falling for Steve Harrington. 

No, no way. He was so different from you. 

But opposites attract right? 

You grimaced, thinking back to the way his eyes flickered from your eyes to your lips. The way he too seemed unsure of going for it.

This would change your entire dynamic. Were you even ready to open up to someone else?

Steve knew you, sure, but just the things at surface level. Things you wanted him to know. You were afraid to even tell him about everything else back home, thinking maybe he would freak at the first sight of a parent gushing over how perfect he seemed. 

If there’s anything a person never is, it’s perfect. 

In many ways, Steve just didn’t seem like an ideal candidate. He never put his things away, snores too loudly, had the romantic personality of a ninth-grader, was obsessed with his hair way more than you were, and he looked for superficial things. 

He knew it too deep down, it was better to ignore the flaws for the love we think we deserved instead of feeling contrite when the ugly truth was out there.

That’s where you differed. You needed honesty, it was the only way to live.

Knock. 

“Hey, you okay?” Steve’s voice echoed from behind the door. 

You squeezed your eyes shut. He just had to be here right now, didn’t he?

You think of something gross enough to keep him on the other side.

“I think the food’s not agreeing with me right now.” 

“Oh okay, do you need anything?” Damn it, leave!

“No! I mean - no. It’s alright. I’ll be right out.” 

You count down from ten, trying to ease your anxious nerves. You take deep breaths and exhale once you get to the primary numbers. At one, you stand straight and march out of the bathroom as if nothing happened. Steve sits on the edge of the bed in his dress shirt now, his blazer discarded onto the chair next to him. 

He’s watching the tv blankly, a rerun of a show you both had seen back home fills out the room. You grab your night clothes and return to the bathroom, changing as fast as you can to slide into bed and call it a night. When you return, Steve’s still where he was before, only now fidgeting with the cuff links on his wrist.

You should be paid for how much you’re able to get out of him. 

“Are you okay? You look like you’re about to cry or something.”

“My dad’s getting married.”

It takes you by surprise. Steve’s never talked about his dad before, not even to Robin.

“Oh,” You say simply. “Like renewing his vows or something?” 

He shakes his head. 

“My mom moved away a while ago. My dad, he uh…..met this woman half his age after her. She’s got kids from another marriage.” He flicks the cuff link. 

“Before I moved to New York with Robin, I would just see and hear them all the time at home. He was nicer to them, do things with them that I had to beg him to do with me when I was a kid.”

You sit next to him, bringing your hand to rest atop his own. 

“The night before I left, I just told him off. I told him it wasn’t fair that he got to start over with another family just because he messed ours up. He called me before we got here saying he wanted me to be his best man.”

He falls silent, his lip quivers but he purses his lips into a straight line to keep himself from letting it out. You can’t say much that will help him, but you understand his disdain and avoidance of weddings thus far.

“What’d you tell him?”

He shrugs. “I told him I’d think about it. He expects an answer when we go home.”

“Well, at least he’s happy.” You sigh.

“Yeah, for now. And then it’s onto the next one.”

You don’t want to do it, but since you’re just letting the skeletons out of the closet, you might as well. 

“You know my parents are still together?” you start. “My mom’s always been this, overbearing cross that my dad carries around. She yells at him all the time but I think he’s checked out already. They didn’t want to divorce because they thought it would damn them or mess me up. But I think it did anyway.”

Steve’s entranced by you, you were opening up. 

“They’ve stuck it out since they had me. And it’s just sad now. I think about them sometimes, just sitting in that house, eating their dinner and sleeping together, not saying a word to each other.”

Steve opens his mouth like he’s about to apologize for even bringing the parent topic up.

“Sure your parents split up, but at least they’re not miserable. I can tell you from experience you would’ve liked that a lot less.” You conclude, removing your hand from his and leaving to go to bed. 

It’s been a weird night.

Steve stops you though, his fingers snaking onto your wrist. You turn back, thinking he’s going to talk more about his family or dive deeper into some other trauma. Imagine your surprise when he stands and bends to your level to pull you into his arms, bringing you in tight and firm. You’re taken aback, arms flying up but eventually settling on his broad back. Your fingers clutch his shirt in fistfuls, taking in the smell of him. 

“Hey, Steve?”

He hums.

“I’m totally reading your boner right now.”

“And the moment’s over.” He says, pulling away. You almost frown at the loss of his body pressing against yours. 

“I’m kidding!” You huff, pushing him back onto the bed. 

You settle in after he changes, pulling the covers up to your chest and putting your arms above them in thought. Steve sees you staring at the ceiling.

“Have you gone catatonic on me?”

“No, it’s just….this is the most I’ve gotten out of you in two years.”

“You’ve known me for two years.” He crawls in, getting comfortable. 

“Yeah but, you know, are these really things you’ve told Robin before?”

“Not really.”

“Why not?”

“She never asked.”

Truthfully, it wasn’t that. While Robin felt comfortable revealing the truth about herself that Fourth of July, Steve had learned to keep things to himself. It’s how he was raised. But you and Robin changed that, especially with the way you tended to overshare things sometimes. 

You turn onto your side, facing him. He’s thinking about something, and he looks so magnificent doing it. The way his hair rests on his forehead, the way his fingers curl around the blanket... 

Oh no. Is this how it starts? Admiring him? Craving his touch like earlier? Wanting his attention fully on you and not all these other women? It was so juvenile, feeling like this was your first love again. The strong feeling hitting you just like the waves did earlier.

It was no secret you were touch starved, but there was something in the way his touch relaxed you. It made you think sometimes. Whatever this feeling was, it was different from what you felt with Danny. You jumped the shark with him, you didn’t really know him. 

But with Steve, you were starting to. He was bare bones with you. 

“Goodnight.” He whispers, turning the bedside lamp off.

“Goodnight.” 

“Are you telling me you don’t know how to ride a bike?” You ask Steve, watching him shift uncomfortably and unevenly on the beach cruiser.

It was your last day being in Virginia, and you didn’t want to sit in the hotel and gorge on food until you passed out. That’s what home was reserved for. 

Joyce had spoken of how lovely the horses and horseback riding was here, but that was closed so you settled for the next best thing. Riding bikes at the beach.

“No I - I do know, I’m just saying this is a hard seat.” 

He’s been adamant about this for five minutes now. Every now and then a girl will pass by and he’ll try to sit, only to fall on his side. You’ve taken so many snapshots of this, each time bellowing with ridiculous laughter.

“When we go home I’m developing this and hanging it on the fridge.”

“Erase this footage!” He gestures to the camera, losing balance again.

“Make me, Harrington!” You can’t help but shoot back.

Passersby found it funny the way you two were bickering. Even more so when you lent over to show Steve how to keep his arms and legs on the bike, him reassuring you he knew where everything went.

“I can do it.” 

“Okay, let’s see then.” You cross your arms and stand aside waiting. 

He mutters to himself and puts both his feet on the pedals, not falling to either side this time. He grips the handlebars and pedals forward, passing you with an excitement lighting up his face that a child would have when they were first learning. 

He can’t manage the turn and falters, sticking a foot and hand out to cushion his fall. You catch up to him, ready to help but he lays down onto the grass and accepts his failure. 

“Come on, you’ll get the hang of it. You just need more practice.” 

You hold out your hand, waiting for him to take it. 

“I know this keeps you healthy, but at what cost?” He grabs on, using you to balance him when he gets to his feet again. He’s too tall and heavy for you, prompting you to waver slightly and hold onto him. 

You pull away when you realize your hands rested on his chest, his other arm holding onto your lower back. He scratches the back of his head nervously uttering an apology.

Feeling the blush creep to your cheeks, you return to your ride, mounting and waiting for him to do the same. 

“Try to catch up.” You smirk, racing off down the hill and squealing. 

“What are you, Evel Knievel?!” He yells after you, wobbling and gritting his teeth as he follows after you. 

You have the upper hand on him the entire time, often hiding behind shops and emerging from behind him when he thinks he’s faster. You ride until the sun sets, enjoying the breeze and the little bit of sun before stopping at an ice cream shop. Steve thinks he’s something of an ice cream connoisseur when you look at flavors. You two end up fighting on flavors before settling on two different ones and eating outside in a garden the shop owner called a hidden gem.

“No way, cookies ‘n cream is the best one.” He remarks, finishing off the cone. 

“Mint chocolate is actually superior and I won’t hear another word about it.” You took your time, enjoying the sensation your mouth was on. 

He shakes his head. “It’s basically gum! It’s disgusting!” 

“But it tastes so good!” You take another bite teeth first and moan in delight. 

He groans in disgust but nonetheless is amused when you try to get him to eat a bit of it. He avoids your hand, moving his head out of the way every time it’s shoved in his face. You wait, plotting. 

“You have some on your lip.” You say, pointing toward his top lip. He licks at it, tasting nothing.

“There’s noth -”

He’s muffled by a mouthful mint chocolate. You can’t help it when the corners of your lips lift into a smug smirk. 

“Funny, huh?” He says, wiping it off with his hand. 

He takes the rest of the cone and dips his fingertips in it, turning his attention to painting your cheeks and lips with as much as he can. You recoil and gasp as the cold sensation, trying to get it off but he keeps attacking. 

“Okay! Okay! Truce!” You wave a figurative white flag. He stops, proud of his work, and tops it off by rustling your hair. 

“I’m so gonna get you,” You promise, wiping at your cheeks and going to get him with the residue when you turn to face him and find your faces are closer than ever. 

You fall silent, the trouble maker in you declining to come back for an encore. 

“What, no smartass remark this time?” He teases. 

As cliche as it might sound, you’re lost in his smugness. His smile falters, his brows furrowing as he realizes what he’s doing, the gap between your faces closing. You close your eyes first, testing the waters and pressing your lips against his softly. He pauses for a moment, suddenly aware of the gravity of what you were doing, bringing his hand up for your cheek to rest on. His eyes flutter shut soon after, diving into your lips and tasting the mixture of sweets. 

He kisses you feverishly and desperately, sighing as he relaxes into you. Your fingers tug at his hair and the back collar of his shirt. He leads you down onto the grass, flowers decorate your head in a red halo. He settles in between your legs and holds himself up by his forearms, his fingers entangling themselves in your hair as he cocks his head to the side to get more of you.

It’s been a while but both of you are antsy and eager. You kick off your shoes and immediately make quick work of his belted pants. He catches your drift and helps you with your skirt, pulling the long pleated material up to snag both ends of your panties. 

“Ow.” 

“Sorry.” He whispers.

“No, it’s okay, just - here,” You grunt as you try to help him from where you’re laying, lifting your hips up to let the fabric slide off. The cool air of the night makes you shiver. 

Steve peppers you with kisses as you reach for the belt and unbuckle it. Hearing it come undone makes you even more aroused. 

“Hold on.” He says in a breathy voice, reaching between your bodies and lining himself in. You tease him by wrapping a leg around his torso and pushing him in slowly with the heel of your foot against his butt.

The feeling overwhelms him, letting out a sharp exhale. He glances back to your smug face and glares at you momentarily. 

You move in sync, your hand grasping onto his broad shoulders and the other on his bicep to keep the pace. He grunts into your shoulder, lost in the lust. His hand comes to rest under your head to support it while also gripping it with each thrust he bucked into you. 

Each thrust was different, pleasurable, and enticing. It fulfilled the need for him you had that night at the beach. You catch yourself smiling, knowing none of the bridesmaids or guests he tried flirting with got this far. Not even Sissy.

He hits a spot in you that rouses you out of your thoughts and leaves you mewling wantonly. You know he won’t last, not at the rate his thrusts are going. He’s crying out, bucking against you in fervor, gripping your hair harder, and groaning louder into your neck. You made him this way. 

Ever since the first wedding, seeing you out of your element made him reconsider some things. Sure if he’d gotten a girlfriend out of this, it would be good for him. But something about you made him feel the way he thought he felt for Nancy. 

He felt seventeen all over again, giddy and in love and a little horny. He just didn’t know if you felt the same. But after the beach incident and the way you took the lead first, all doubts went away.

Thinking about you, he slides his thumb into his mouth and lubricates it, snaking it down to the neglected pearl in between your legs. Your eyes shut in ecstasy at the added sensation, your back arching into him. You feel your legs shake and your feet writhe against his ass trying to amplify the feeling. His heavy breaths, needy kisses, and raunchy whispers in your ear are absolute heaven to you. 

You come before him, muffling your lewd moans into his shoulder and milking him for everything he’s got. He comes with a final sloppy thrust and collapses onto you, knocking the wind out of you and leaving you catching your breath.

He pants, breath hot and heavy against your collarbone. Your legs unwrap from their previous position, now shaky and limp. 

Once you two catch your breath after about a minute or two, Steve lifts his head to rest his forehead against yours. You both chuckle, finally acknowledging the broken tension.

Steve kisses you again, this time without fear or doubt. Just pure adoration. 

You don’t really feel yourself fall asleep, neither does he. But you’re definitely mortified in the morning when you hear voices that wake you up with a start.

“Cooter’s out.” The old gardener points out.

The statement wakes you up, and when you realize you just flashed your privates you stand up quickly and shake Steve awake. He groans, but opens his eyes, his smile dropping once he notices the man in front of you two. 

“Cooter’s out.” The old man repeats.

You pull the skirt all the way down and grab your shoes quickly while Steve tucks himself back in and apologizes profusely. You grab his hand and race out of the garden, red as a tomato and grab the bikes to go back to the hotel. 

The car ride to the airport is quiet. You thank yourself for bringing something to read to avoid mentioning the embarrassing aftermath. Steve didn’t bring anything to distract him like you did, but he glances at you every so often. When your eyes meet, you both turn away quickly. But the smile on both your faces betrays you both. 

Steve doesn’t even bother flirting with the flight attendant this time, his eyes are completely on you. It feels odd. You can’t even find a smart-ass thing to say, it’s like you’re short-circuiting. You didn’t know what he was thinking, but if the constant staring and easy smiles and looks of adoration he gave you were any indications, he was whipped.

You sigh in relief as you plop onto the couch, letting all your things fall after Steve gets in. He takes the initiative to break the ice when he collapses onto your chest. 

You’re winded again. “Whoa, someone ate too much shrimp at the wedding.”

Steve suppresses a chuckle, taking you in. You had some type of glow he’d never noticed before.

“So…” He begins.

“So…”

“About last night,” he starts but you cut him off.

“We don’t need to talk about it, you know if you don’t want to.” 

“I do.” He murmurs into your chest. He hugs your body, his head resting on your chest the same way Mickey would do it. 

Damn it, you actually liked this. 

“Great sex.” You blurt, shutting your eyes in disbelief at how awkward he suddenly made you.

His dimples peeked out as he felt himself chuckling. “Yeah, great sex.”

“I’m sorry,” you jittered. “I’m never usually like this.”

“Oh, I know. But it’s okay. I had fun.” 

You haven’t felt this excited for something to potentially happen since you met Danny. But even now you were hopeful.

“Steve?”

“Hmm?”

“Do you want me to go with you to your dad’s wedding?”

He must’ve remembered he had to answer that best man question because he’s unmoving.

How bad can it be? He thinks. Now that I have you.

“Yes please.”

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington imagine #stranger things imagine #joe keery x reader

[amarabliss]

Things Fall Apart - 2 (Steve McGarrett/Daughter)

Steve and the team find out that you “Shortie” have passed away in the line of duty, things are not as they seem...

Sequel to Daddy’s Girl

Part 1

Danny stared at Steve across the offices. He watched as his friend, his brother, shuffled papers around looking at his computer, trying to keep busy. 

Three months. 

It took him three months to come back to work after Shortie passed. Everyone was behind him. Everyone let him do his thing. Justifiably so.

“Hey...” He snapped his attention away from Steve and saw Tani sticking her head inside his office, “got a sec?”

“For you, always.” He smiled waving her inside. She glanced over at Steve before taking a seat across from him at his desk, “So, uh, what’s up?”

“Well I have a message for you, but before I relay it...” She sighed looking down a little.

“Yeah, I’m worried about him too.” Danny nodded.

“Is he doing okay?” She frowned, “I know Junior gave him his space for a while after it happened, but he said that the last few weeks he’d just been fixing up the house again.”

Danny frowned, it was something Steve started to do when he couldn’t deal. Fixing stupid things, he did it at the restaurant all the time. Light switch plates, caulking…little things. He knew the house needed a lot more then that at the moment, “He lost his daughter Tani…I don’t think he’s ever going to be okay.”

“I just wish there was something I could do.” She leaned back in the seat.

“Listen…” Danny clasped his hands together leaning on his desk, “Steve, took his time. Something he doesn’t do…ever. I think he’s where he needs to be right now and if he needs us…he’ll ask. If he doesn’t ask, well I’ve already broke into his house once last month, I’ll do it again.”

“You broke into his house?” She raised her eyebrows concerned.

“The big oof wouldn’t answer my calls, or his text, or his door…so yeah I did.” He looked away remembering the state he found the house in. Broken desk, chairs, things thrown across the room…it looked like the place had been under siege.

“Steve?” Danny walked upstairs to see if he could find him. He checked both the rooms only seeing more messes. He felt his heart jump to his throat when he saw the gun safe by Steve’s bed kicked out of place. Luckily it was just that, out of place, everything inside.

He walked back down stairs toward Shortie’s room seeing the door cracked open. He took a deep breath pushing the door open slowly. What he saw broke his heart. A strong man who would do anything to trade places with his daughter, but no deal would be enough to bring her back.

Steve was laying on your bed curled up with you pillow under his head. Face wet with tears still as his hand laid on top of the picture album you had given him years ago. Danny looked down at the page it was on seeing two pictures. One of you as a little girl big book in your hands. It looked like you’d just gotten and was excited. The other was of Steve and you on Christmas at his place.

You both had stupid Christmas hats on making goofy faces. Danny sniffed looking away feeling himself get choked up. Swallowing it down he took a seat next to the bed on the floor. He leaned his head back letting it rest against the mattress as Steve spoke, “I don’t want you here…”

“Well…” Danny frowned, “That’s too bad, I’m not going to let you do this alone.”

“Danny…”

“No Steve…” Danny looked at him feeling a tear fall down his face, “I know what she meant to you…I know what she meant to me…and I know that she was your everything and I can’t…”

He looked away from him wiping a hand over his face before he went on, “I can’t let you do this alone…because I can’t do it alone.”

Danny shook his head looking back at Tani, “Uh…so…what’s the message?”

“Oh…HPD asked you to stop by the precinct, they have a girl in custody who is asking only to speak with you.” She stood up rubbing her hands together, “I told them that it might take you a bit to get there, that we were dealing with something internal.”

“A girl? Is it Grace?” He stood up worried.

“She didn’t give a name.” Tani told him, “They said they literally brought her in sat her down and she would only say ‘I need to speak with Danny Williams from the Five – 0 task force.’”

“What’d they bring her in for?” He grabbed his badge and his gun hooking them to her belt.

“Apparently, she was driving recklessly, and when they pulled her over, they found an arsenal in her trunk.” Tani smirked a little, “Did you get yourself a new girlfriend?”

“…not that I’m aware of…” Danny glanced over toward Steve again before sighing, “Listen if he…”

“I will keep an eye on him.” Tani told him as he walked out, “Go get us a case, it’s boring here.”

Danny drove over to the HPD the feeling of apprehension leaving him. He walked inside checking himself in and getting a badge as the arresting officer walked over to him, “Detective Williams?”

“Yeah, you must be the man who called us?” Danny reached out shaking his hand.

“Andrews sir, thanks for coming down. If you’ll follow me, I’ll take you right to her.” He nodded leading him down the hall, “She hasn’t spoken at all, I’m concerned she may have been through some sort of trauma, which is why I called you.”

“Alright…no ID on her though?” Danny looked at him.

“Nothing in the databases off her prints.” The officer told him stopping outside of an interrogation room, “She very insistent that we get you here.”

Danny nodded again , “Okay, I will see what I can do for you all.”

“Thank you sir.” He opened the door for Danny letting him inside.

What he saw was a young woman with her head down on the table. He took a deep breath quickly assessing her over. He saw bruises on her wrists, around her neck…from how deep they look he imagined they were elsewhere too.

“Uh…I’m Detective Danny Williams…you asked for me.” He took a step forward putting his hands in his pockets.

“…can you please turn off the cameras…” He could barely hear her as she spoke. The voice was hoarse and rough. When he didn’t answer she went on, “I know you can…immunity and means…”

“Would…that…make you feel safe?” Danny watched her shift a little. It was obvious that the slightest movement was painful.

“Yeah…” She looked up to him making his heart stop, “yeah, Danno it would.”

His mouth went dry instantly, “…Sh-shortie…”

You stood up a small smile coming to your face, “Could you please hit the camera off, now?”

#things fall apart #steve mcgarrett #steve mcgarrett/reader #steve mcgarrett imagine #steve mcgarrett father #steve mcgarrett reader #steve mcgarrett daughter #steve mcgarret/daughter #Danny Williams #tani rey #junior reigns #lou grover