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indigostreak-inthesky · 1 year

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Dripping Honey

Pairings: Danny x reader

Warnings: smut, oral (f receiving) use of hands, like one line about masturbation, 18+ only minors dni!!! , talk of stress/ anxiety

Author’s Note: hello! I have never ever posted or even written anything of this caliber before, but Jooty Nation saw it first & encouraged me to post! Please enjoy :)

(Also yes I did add a Taylor Swift reference in here iykyk)

There are several things you love about being a teacher. Really, there are- you get to be the only smiling face some of your students see all day; you get to share in their excitement when they finally master the concept of long division; you get invited to dance recitals, baseball games, cheer competitions, and theater performances; and above all, you get to build a little family every school year with the children who walk through your door. Because of these things, most of the time, you absolutely love your job. There are just some things that occasionally make it hard to remember why you’re there.

For example, today. It’s the first day back for teachers before students enter the building next week to start a brand new school year, and you walked into your classroom expecting to see your furniture piled neatly where it had been left in May, meticulously labeled with your name and room number. Instead, you walked into a relative shit show- your furniture is spread around the room; desks don’t match; you’re missing a lamp, a bookshelf, and a stepstool; and all of your bulletin boards have been sprayed with wax from the floors sometime during the summer months, meaning you were going to have to take all four of them down and start from scratch. And to top it all off, a dead rat had been waxed to your floor.

With a sigh, you had set your things down and gone to the faculty meeting, spending the better part of the morning in your school’s cafeteria listening to your admin go over staffing and schedule changes, making a list of all the things you needed to do before you left for the day and made it back home, wishing your boyfriend would be there but knowing he was out of town. When you finally made it back to your room, it had taken the rest of your contracted time to hunt down the missing items from your room and return the things that didn’t belong to you to their rightful owners; you weren’t sure what the floor crews had been thinking when they put things away after waxing the floors, but it definitely wasn’t about putting things back where they actually belonged.

Which is why, when you walked through your door after a long first day back, you dropped your gym shoes by the door and immediately face planted into your couch, groaning your frustrations into a pillow and fighting the tears welling up in your eyes. You didn’t notice the bag sitting by your kitchen island, or the pair of lowtop Nike Blazers sitting next to your Birkenstocks by the door. You only realized something was off when you heard the soft sound of footsteps coming from your bedroom, and peeked up to catch a glance of your favorite set of curls before scrambling up off the couch and launching yourself at your boyfriend.

Danny laughed, your favorite sound in the world, and picked you up by the backs of your thighs as you wrapped your legs around his waist. He spun you around gently in a circle before setting you back safely on the ground, leaning down to hold your face between his palms and giving you a soft kiss before you bury your head in his chest once again. “Hi, honey,” came his muffled voice from where he had his head atop yours, placing a kiss on the crown of your head. “Is it safe to say you’re surprised?”

“Daniel Wagner, you weren’t supposed to be home for another week!” you say, looking up into his pretty hazel eyes. “What are you doing here?”

Danny guides you to sit down on the couch, propping his feet up on the coffee table and moving your legs to where they’re laid over his lap, his arm around your shoulders and left hand playing with the cartilage piercings on your left ear; an endearing habit you’ve come to learn he doesn’t realize he’s doing most of the time.

Though your drummer has his own ears pierced, he’s been taken with your piercings since you met in Nashville a year ago. It shocked Danny that an elementary school teacher could have 12 visible piercings in your ears and nose, and now he enjoys helping you pick out new jewelry for your constellation piercings and will pick up fun earrings for your first holes while he’s out on tour, sending pictures of planet earrings that “will be so perfect for your space unit,” or mushroom earrings “because your students need to see what a fungi you are. Get it?” (You got it, you just didn’t want to encourage his terrible joke. You did love the earrings, though.)

Danny gently runs his hand up and down your shin, rousing you from your thoughts and bringing your attention back to the question at hand- what was he doing here?

“We have a couple days off between shows, and I know I said I was going to just hang out with the guys instead of flying back here, but I know how stressful this week is for you every year, plus they all wanted to spend a few days in their own beds, too. We caught an early flight this morning and packed weekender bags, so I’m all yours for the next 3 days, honey!” His small smile broke into a full grin, and Danny spread his arms wide, taking a sarcastic little half bow while sitting next to you.

You feel your eyes well up with tears anew, taken aback by your boyfriend’s selflessness and the magnitude of your love for him. He frowns slightly, pulling you in to nuzzle into his side and rubbing your arms up and down comfortingly. “What’s wrong, honey? Don’t cry, what’s going on?”

“I’m sorry,” you sniffle, “I’m just really thankful for you and I love you a lot. You have no idea how stressed I was today, and I don’t know how I’m going to get my classroom ready in time for Back to School Night on Wednesday, and I missed you so much, and I had to spend all day in meetings and moving furniture by myself and I’m only 5’5” and-” you hiccupped, feeling yourself getting stressed once again as Danny wiped the tears from your cheeks with the pads of his thumbs and pulled you into his chest.

“Don’t be sorry, honey,” he said softly, rocking you both back and forth as you had moved to sit on his lap, legs crossed behind his waist and head on his shoulder. He traced soft circles into your back before pushing you away slightly to brush the hair out of your face and look you in the eyes. “Tomorrow, after your meetings, I’ll come to school and help you move and set up whatever you need to set up. We’ll work until midnight, if we have to, and I’ll order pizza and we can put Star Wars or true crime or the Great British Baking Show onto your SmartBoard, and we’ll get everything done before Wednesday, I promise. But tonight, let’s take a bath, and eat the pasta I made for dinner, and lay down so you can relax before you go back tomorrow, okay? How does that sound?”

You nod your head, leaning in to kiss him softly on the lips and running your hand over the back of his curls. When you part, you rest your forehead against his, placing a peck on his beautiful nose and closing your eyes to just breathe him in, this closeness that you’ve been missing since the start of the tour and unexpectedly get to bask in. “Thank you,” you whisper into the space between your mouths, each breath mingling together. “I love you.”

Danny places another kiss to your lips, lifting you off his lap and leading you to the kitchen by your hand. “I love you, more,” he says.

As you finish dinner and put the dishes into the dishwasher, you hear the faucet turn on from the direction Danny had wandered off in. You place the last dish into the rack and start the wash cycle, padding into the bathroom to find your boyfriend on his knees, testing the temperature of the water with his hand and pouring your favorite lavender epsom salt beneath the surface of the running water. Leaning against the counter behind him, you take the opportunity to study his bare frame; his hair is unruly and has been tucked into a bun on the top of his head, curls springing out from the bottom due to his recent hair cut. His shoulders are broad, muscles rippling with every movement and his arms are bigger than they were when you first met. You feel yourself grow damp just admiring his profile, love and lust swirling in your chest and tummy and creating an almost delirious yearning within you.

Danny turns, a lopsided smile on that mouth that you love so much, and shuts the water off before moving to stand in front of you. “I’m glad you’re enjoying the view, honey, but I think you’re going to enjoy this bath much more.”

You roll your eyes, skimming your hands along his sides and feeling him shiver slightly beneath the scratch of your nails. “I don’t know,” you purr, looking up at him through your lashes. “There isn’t a whole lot I enjoy more than getting to see you naked.”

Danny flicks your nose gently, pulling at the hem of your top to remove it before moving onto your jeans, pulling them off one leg at a time. You don’t miss the way his eyes flare as he struggles a bit to get them past your ass. You place your hands on his shoulders as you step out of your pants, underwear gone with them, and he tosses the jeans to the laundry basket in the corner before softly pushing you to step into the tub. Closing your eyes, you sink beneath the surface of the water, and let out a deep breath you were unaware you had been holding. The temperature was perfect; “boiling alive degrees,” as Danny liked to say, but nevertheless you feel him sink into the tub behind you, hissing a bit as the water hits his skin and pulling you into him so that your back is flush with his chest.

You sit that way for a bit, Danny humming softly and speaking about everything and nothing. It had been almost three weeks since you had seen each other, and your drummer had endless tales from the road of the Kiszka brothers’ shenanigans and fan encounters. He washed your hair for you as you told him about your half of the time apart, how you had gone to see your family a few states away and finished two more books towards your reading goal for the year.

“And then, before one show, they brought a bunch of puppies for us to play with! Did you see that video? They were so cute, even though Jake acted like he had never pet a dog before in his life.” Danny laughed.

You giggled along with him, settling back into his chest once again and sighing. Your need for him had not been satiated, and now, after hearing his voice and his laugh, you felt like you would crawl out of your skin if you couldn’t touch him in some way. Thankfully, Danny’s thoughts seemed to align with your own, and within seconds you felt his hand inch down from your hair to your neck, moving the soaked strands away so that he could place an open-mouthed kiss to the skin between your neck and shoulder blade. Your eyes flutter shut and you let out a small whimper, going to trail your hand up his thigh when his own halts you. Frowning, you turn your head towards him with a question in your eyes.

“Let me take care of you tonight, honey,” Danny says, trailing his hands lower to cup your breasts in his palms. “You worked so hard today, and I know you’re stressed. My sweet, hardworking girl, my good girl; you gonna let me make you feel good?”

“Yes, Danny, please,” you whimper, arching your back so that your chest meets his hands. His fingers, rough from years of gripping his drumsticks and beating on his drums like his life depended on it, find the bars of your nipple piercings and tug. You bite your lip, writhing beneath his touch as he leans down to whisper in your ear.

“I am still in awe of these,” he says in a voice an octave lower than normal, his own arousal evident in the timbre of his words and the hardness you feel against your back. “Can’t believe such a sweet girl has such a dirty, sexy little secret she hides from the world.” He gives another flick to the little sword shaped bars through your nipples, pausing his words to run his nose along the column of your neck and tug the lobe of your ear between his teeth. “You’re only a dirty girl for me, though, right honey?”

You nod feverishly, earning yourself a pinch to the inside of your thigh.

“Words, honey, you know that by now. Who are you a filthy girl for, hm? Who’s the only one that gets to see these little secrets-” he pulls gently again at your pierced tits for emphasis- “and all your soft, pink places?”

You aren’t sure if you’re shivering from the rapidly cooling water temperature or the feelings Danny is evoking in you, but you answer anyways, teeth chattering, “You, Danny, baby, only you.”

Abruptly Danny stands behind you, tugging your body up with his and pulling the plug so that the water drains from the tub. He grabs a towel from the hook on the wall, first drying off your body and then his own. He wastes no time in picking you up by the waist and setting you on the bathroom counter, standing between your legs and stealing your breath away with a kiss.

“What do you want, honey?” he asks in between kisses. “My hands, my mouth, my cock?”

He’s teasing and you both know it, know that he’s stolen your voice with the way his mouth is sucking bruises onto the tops of your breasts and his fingers drumming a beat against the inside of your thigh. If you didn’t know your boyfriend, you might say the tapping of his fingers so close to where you needed him most was absentminded; and if your boyfriend didn’t know you, he might think you were squirming because of the deep purple mark being left right above one of your nipples. You both knew the other like the backs of your hands, though, which means he knew he was working you up with the way both his mouth and hands moved in tandem, and you knew he was drumming into you with purpose.

A whine escapes your throat, every one of your senses flooded with Danny, Danny, Danny. His name was the only thought in your head, just the way he liked it. “Sweet girl, are you already thoughtless?” he teased. “Just give me one word, honey, and it’s yours. Tell me what you want, and I’ll hang the fuckin’ moon for you if that’s what leaves those perfect lips of yours.”

“Y-your mouth, baby,” you almost cry. “I want your mouth.”

Danny’s eyes grow impossibly dark, and his hands grip bruisingly hard onto your hips, scooting you so that half your ass is hanging off the bathroom counter. One massive hand creeps up to circle your throat, tilting your chin up with his thumb and applying just enough pressure to have you open your eyes, unaware that they had even closed in the first place.

“I told you I’d hang the fuckin’ moon for you, and I will, honey; but only if you ask the right way. Be my sweet honey girl and beg for it.”

You knew what he wanted; you’re a few months older than your drummer, enough to have put a year between you in school (which you learned shortly after meeting him) and you have both a Bachelor’s degree and a Master’s degree in Educational fields. Danny graduated high school and immediately dedicated his time to the band, practicing, performing, traveling, and living that dream. He loves the fact that, despite you being older (even if it’s by less than 10 months) and ‘more educated’, you follow his directions when it comes to intimacy. He wants to be in control and guide you, make you beg and grovel for the feeling that only he can give you; and beg you will for even just a taste of the drug that is Daniel Wagner.

“Please, sir. Put your mouth on me, fuck me with your tongue, make my pussy cry from the feeling. Please, only you can make me feel so fucking good I forget my own name, Daddy.” To add to the effect, you bat your eyelashes sweetly and reach out to skim your thumbnail over his nipple. You needn’t have bothered; Danny’s eyes flashed and he crushed your mouth to his in an instant, immediately dominating the kiss by forcing his tongue into your mouth and twisting his fingers into your wet hair. He gave your strands a tug, exposing the bare skin of your jugular to his little fangs and scraping his teeth over the vein before biting down gently.

“My honey girl wants my mouth? She wants me to make that sweet little cunt cry? Oh baby, don’t you worry; I’ll eat you so good. My favorite fuckin’ dessert.”

No sooner had the filthy words left his mouth than did he sink to his knees, spreading your legs even wider and throwing your calves over his shoulders. He pressed the tip of his nose into your center, inhaling deeply as your hands come to rest atop his head and take a light hold into his curls. Danny looks up at you, grinning like a devil from between your legs and sending you a wink before diving in.

Your head hits the mirror when he licks a long strip straight up the center of your pussy, gathering every drop of arousal that had gathered between your legs. “God damn, honey, all this for me?” he asks, nudging your clit with the tip of his nose. God, that nose. You could write an epic poem about that nose and the things it does between your thighs.

You feel a sharp sting on the inside of your left thigh and yelp, glancing down to see Daniel licking over the skin to soothe his bite. “I asked you a question, y/n. Is. This. For. Me?”

“Yes! Yes, Daddy, it’s all for you, only for you. Nobody else, God, please just touch me!” You whine, chest heaving with the intensity of your need for him. Danny takes pity on you, shushing your cries with a kiss and making you jump when you feel the pad of his thumb circling your puffy clit once, twice, three times. You keen, moaning into his mouth and grasping onto his shoulders as you grind yourself onto his hand. Every time Danny touches you is like a fever; you feel fire spreading through your body and reach a peak wherever his touch meets your skin. Even if you knew it meant being burned alive, you wanted to bask in that fire, that heat, for the rest of your life.

“Okay, honey girl, okay,” Danny shushes, once again trailing his lips down your neck, your sternum, your belly, and settling onto his knees in front of you. “You’ve been so good, baby. So good. Daddy’s gonna give his honey girl what she deserves.”

You could cry with relief when you feel the tip of his tongue meet your swollen clit, burying your hands into his hair not so gently this time and grinding yourself onto his face. He gives you the softest kitten licks before traveling down to push his tongue towards your entrance, effectively fucking you with the heavenly muscle before travelling back up to your clit. Danny resurfaces only to talk to you in the way that he knows you adore, the way that only he can, pushing one thick finger into you as he does. “That’s it, y/n, use my mouth. Daddy told you he would give you what you want, but my dirty girl is so determined to take it herself. Jesus, fuck, honey, you’re so fuckin’ tight. You ready for another?”

You nod your head rapidly, still bucking your hips to ride his hand. “Shit, Danny, baby, I’m so close, can I come? Please, daddy, I’ve been your good girl, please make me come-” you cut yourself off as you feel a tear slip down your cheek. Your body feels like it’s on fire and that knot inside your belly is dangerously close to snapping. You do your best to hold yourself together, especially as Danny slips another finger into you and curls them just right to hit that spot within your body that nobody, no previous partners nor even yourself, could seem to find. Danny found it within minutes of your first time together, and has never failed to make you see stars by hitting it each time since.

“Give it to me, honey girl,” your drummer says, adding that sinful tongue of his to the wildfire that is between your thighs. “Come on my tongue.”

You didn’t need to be told twice. With a strangled cry of “oh, fuuuuck, Daniel.” your high came crashing over you in a tidal wave, the current of it pulling you under again and again as Danny licked you through it.

When you finally pulled yourself out of your orgasmic haze, Danny was stroking his own cock furiously. You had no energy to protest and watched, chest heaving, as he came by his own hand, his head thrown back and a soft “fuck,” leaving his lips.

Standing, your drummer cleans first himself off with the used towel, then walks to the linen closet and picks out a clean washcloth, running it under warm water and cleaning between your legs as well. You stick your bottom lip out when he pecks you on the nose, pouting.

“What’s wrong, honey girl?” Danny asks with his eyebrows furrowed.

You kiss the palm of his hand as it cups your cheek. “Why didn’t you let me help you come, too? I wanted to make you feel good, baby.” You chew on the inside of your cheek, the guilt at being so wrapped up in your own pleasure you failed to make your sweet boyfriend feel the same way eating at you.

Danny placed a soft kiss on your forehead, scooping you into his arms and carrying you into your shared bedroom. He placed you on your feet, making sure your legs were steady, before padding to the dresser to get pajamas out for the both of you. “Tonight was supposed to be about you, y/n,” he assures you, slipping his Church of Rock and Roll t-shirt over your head and navigating your arms through the sleeves. “You always work so hard during the first week to make sure your classroom is perfect for your students, and I wanted to take care of you tonight. You deserve to see stars after all you do.”

He moves to put on his own pjs after aiding you into stepping into your underwear and sleep shorts, sliding on a pair of threadbare plaid pants and his well-loved Howling Wolf cutoff shirt. Snuggling yourselves into bed, you lay your head on his chest and listen to his heartbeat for several minutes, matching your breaths to his own.

“Thank you, honey boy,” you whisper into the dark. “I love you.”

“I love you too, honey girl,” comes his reply. “You’re worth hanging the fuckin’ moon for.”

Giggling, you almost drift off into slumber when you hear Danny’s voice once again. “By the way, I convinced the guys to help with your room tomorrow. I’m not sure whether to say you’re welcome or I’m sorry yet.”

Suddenly, you can’t wait for tomorrow.

#danny wagner #gvf #greta van fleet #danny wagner x reader #greta van smut #gvf smut #gvf fluff #danny wagner fic #I am so so so scared to post this #if it gets deleted literally pretend you never saw it #danny wagner smut

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