#not Danny's heart quietly cracking in half

[mutable-manifestation]

"Do you have anything you would like to pack?" his little brother, who he hasn't seen in a decade, asks with an affected hesitance.

A test. But when isn't it with the League?

He remembers that well enough, tests upon tests upon tests. Every breathe a test, every step an evaluation, every blink a quiz and he failed and failed and failed until they cast him aside like yesterday's garbage.

But Danny had planned for this eventuality. Had planned and planned and planned until his back-up plans had back-up plans, with his parents - the ones that had actually cared for him - and his sister throwing in suggestions and revisions along the way.

With the acquisition of his ghost powers the plans got all the simpler.

It would only take a short time back with the League to get a lay of the land and chose a primary plan. A quick text to his mirror-born and she'd have a fake body ready to swap with him at the drop of a hat.

So he pasted on a stoic expression and gave a simple "No."

'Aren't I a good little soldier,' he let his body language scream for him. 'Look how well I've avoided making any attachments! Look how eternal my loyalty to the League burns, that a decade with a loving family has not swayed me in the slightest. I'll leave all behind, o' Demon's Heir, for I am at your command. Nothing has changed. There is no need to be alarmed. I am just another League asset ready for reassignment.'

His brother's gaze flicked to the box cutter and Danny swiftly closed and stowed in on his person in a way that, to Damian, must have screamed "I haven't kept up with my weapons practice since I got here and would still lose to 6-year-old you."

He swallowed back the conflicted feelings - humiliation at how he must look, jealousy at his brother's prowess that had undoubtedly only improved in their time apart, relief that he hadn't had to keep up with said practice, warring joy and fear that the League had finally come back for him, grief and anticipation that this was likely the last time he'd ever see his brother or any of the League ever again - and kept vicious hold of his neutral expression.

His brother nodded, an awkward expression Danny couldn't place the purpose of marring his face as he turned back down the stairs.

Like a loyal dog shadow, Danny followed.

---

It was quite the struggle for Danny to keep his emotions in check upon seeing the entirety of the Wayne family sat in his living room.

There was shock, sure, but primarily disappointment. First Lex, then Vlad, and now even Brucie Wayne. Danny would appreciate it if billionaires could stop being genuinely evil for five seconds, thanks.

Every single one of them glance up at the pair as they enter the living room, and Tucker pauses his speech to look over his shoulder.

Danny lets his expression return to normal before Tucker can see him - he loves his friends, but they'd all agreed that Sam and Tucker didn't have the emotional control to avoid giving anything away, and given that Danny left at six, any kind of attempt at a code phrase was just as likely to give away the game.

When and if the League came for him, they'd decided, Danny would disappear on his own, and text them when Operation: Death 2 (the two was added after his first death) was complete and he was on his way home.

The League would simply see it as him playing along to maintain cover until they were well and truly gone.

"Wow, I already thought you guys looked a lot alike but seeing you standing side-by-side is way trippy," Tucker says, eyes flicking between them.

Danny could practically hear the unspoken "Did Bruce Wayne also decide to clone you???"

For his part, Danny just snorts.

"Everyone in the world has, like, 7 look-a-likes Tuck. Sometimes they meet."

"It be like that sometimes," Tucker nods sagely.

"It really do," Danny grins back, before turning to the other guests. "Anyway, sorry for interrupting your little expo here, I'm just headed out to the shed, don't mind me."

"I shall assist," Damian says. It isn't unexpected, he doubts the Demon's Heir cares about a battery - not when he doesn't know it's made of Lazarus water, at least.

"I'd appreciate it, if it's not too much trouble," Danny smiles, all midwestern charm as he nods and opens the door for the both of them.

His expression drops back to complete neutrality once the door is closed, and voices pick up again inside. Luckily, the curtains are shut, so Tucker won't see him ignore the shed completely and return his empty gaze to his brother, just another drone awaiting orders.

His brother freezes as he turns to catch the expression.

"The shed?" he asks.

Danny doesn't hesitate, though he doesn't understand why Damian asks when he should know.

"An excuse, keeping Foley in the dark will allow more time for exfiltration. Given you are here as a civilian, it is important to confuse the timeframes."

Left unsaid is that they could just kill Tucker, but that would be even more suspicious.

He lets his eyes flick to the dark car parked on the curb leadingly.

Damian finally moves to the vehicle. They spend the next 20 minutes in stoic, awkward silence hidden behind tinted windows. He honestly can't believe it's taking them this long to give an excuse to leave.

---

The first thing Tim notices about Damian 2 - Danny, he reminds himself - is the eyes. If the two of them wore the same clothes, it would be the eyes alone that distinguished them, the vibrant blue a stark contrast to Damian's own dark green.

The next thing he notices is the emotion. Or rather, the lack thereof.

When Damian first came to the Wayne's he was a vicious thing, primary emotions being: fury and stabby.

Danny just look dead. A statue wouldn't been more lifelike stood next to him.

Then, as the young inventor they'd used as a cover story began to turn, he melted to life, all charming smiles and amused quirks of the lips and friendly banter. It would've been a relief to see him turn out so normal if not for that empty, empty expression he'd had not moments before.

Instead, they saw the interaction for what it was - Danny had grow up a spy, and just like Damian had thrown his all into murder, Danny had throw his all into spying, until everything he was - his expressions, his emotions, his body language, every aspect of communication down to the last detail - was exactly what he wanted it to be.

Meeting in any other circumstance, Tim would've taken him for just another Clark-type in the making. He was the perfect actor.

How long had he waited here, Tim wondered, molding himself into this for just a scrap of attention from the League? And after a full decade, how much of the real Danny was left?

---

As it turned out, Tucker Foley's design actually had quite a lot of promise. It made Tim feel less bad about using him as an excuse to be in the area, at least, and they swiftly scheduled a second meeting with him before returning to the car.

The awkward, intense silence that greeted them was honestly exactly was Tim would expect from putting two Damians in the same room - well, if you forbade stabbing first.

Speaking of which -

"So, like, you aren't going to try to stab and/or murder me are you?" Tim asks once they're all filed in and on their way to the airport.

"Tim." Bruce reprimands.

"Come on, that's totally a fair question. I have a right to know if I need to start sleeping with two eyes open again."

"As if you sleep in the first place, Drake," Damian rolls his eyes.

"He's got ya there Timmy," Dick chimes in, the traitor.

"Sleep is for the weak," he retorts, before turning back to Danny. "Seriously though, stabbing?"

In lieu of an answer, Danny looks to Damian.

Damian grimaces.

"No stabbing," he says, and Danny just nods before returning his eyes to a point somewhere over Dick's shoulder, right where he'd been looking before they entered the limo.

A beat passes.

"Also no murder," Damian spits out, in what Tim would very nearly call a panicked afterthought.

Danny blinks, a look of sheer confusion washing over his face before it's shoved back away and he looks over and nods once mor, tacking on a dull "Understood."

The uneasy silence returned, and Bruce seemed preoccupied simply staring at his new son.

"So!" Dick clapped, evidently deciding he'd had enough. "It's nice to finally meet you, Danny - can I call you Danny? - I'm your oldest brother, Richard Grayson! But just call me Dick."

"I have no brothers," Danny said, eyes chips of ice.

---

Danny was having a bad time.

Anyone in Amity Park could tell you Danny Fenton? Can't lie for shit.

The one thing he can do is keep his mouth shut and pray that's sufficient.

Keeping a straight face is a battle for a variety of reasons, and The best luck he's already had to leave about a dozen puns unsaid in the course of the car ride thus far.

Not only is he struggling not to pun, he's struggling to understand.

Why does this Tim guy think Danny would stab him? Why is Damian telling him not to stab him?? Why is Damian forbidding murder???

It's not that Danny has problem with the lack of stabbing and murder - quite the opposite - it's just that... it's Damian. Damian, here to personally exfiltrate him. Damian, Demon's Heir. Whose entourage, then, must be composed of League members. Which, of course he wouldn't stab them (outside of training) so why does it need to be said?

He would think they just think that poorly of him, if not for the fact that these others don't read as League members at all.

Calculated movements, highly aware of their surroundings, suspiciously muscular? Yeah, sure.

But they're acting like they're trying to make casual conversation.

He would think it's all a test - and of course it must be - except...what is the point of claiming to be his brother when he only has a single brother: the twin he isn't allowed to acknowledge as his brother.

When he says he doesn't have a brother, out of the corner of his eye, he almost thinks Damian looks hurt.

He brushes it off as his imagination.

"Daniel," Bruce Wayne calls him, and he can't fully suppress his reaction. He knows everyone of them must see the clenched jaw, the seat squishing between clenched fingers, and the look of utter hatred and disdain that washes over him for a split second before he can squash it back down.

"Danny," the man corrects, and name doesn't sound like a reprimand, but he hears one anyway. "You may not remember all of the details as you were... young. when you left the League of Assassins. But Damian is your twin brother."

"I recall our biological connection. That does not make him my brother, he is the Heir."

This, at least, he doesn't need to act to say in a dead voice. This is a just quote, beaten into his brain until it echoed around and around at every errant thought of his brother, a constant background static even after all of his time away.

"I am your brother," Damian says, voice firm, "heir or not."

"The Demon's Head has changed his mind on the matter, then?"

The question is absent, Danny doesn't really care about the answer, he just cares about blending in long enough to pull off his plan, except-

"Grandfather is dead."

---

"Grandfather is dead."

Damian watches as his brother's eyes sharpen for perhaps the first time the whole car ride.

"And the Pits didn't work?"

"He was not afforded the use of the pits, given that it was a coup. Grandfather is dead, mother has gone into hiding, and I... have been living with our father for a few years now."

He gestures with his eyes - uncertain how much his brother knows - and watches on as he and Father enter a brief staring competition.

"Hello," Father says, only slightly less stunned silent than he'd been when he had first met Damian.

"Hello," Danny returns, voice hollow rather than the more neutral-lilt it had adopted previously.

"So if the League has been... overtaken... my new assignment-"

"There is no new assignment," Father cuts in, voice gentle but sure.

"What."

"Even if the League weren't disbanded there would be no new assignment, your only duty now is to try and enjoy what childhood you have left. I...was unaware that I had children with Talia until she left Damian with me six years ago. And-"

"And we didn't find out about you until Timmers interrupted one of your reports the other day!" Dick interrupted, ruffling Tim's hair and indirectly throwing Damian under and 18-wheeler in the process.

His brother - his twin - looked at him. His face was once again blank, but Damian could sense the askance all the same.

"I... forgot you."

Damian did not know his brother well - at all, really - but he felt that the lack of change in expression might've been the worst possible outcome.

"Then you are not here to exfiltrate me on behalf of the League."

It wasn't a question, but...

"No."

"And you aren't here to ask my help in finding mother or undoing to coup?"

"No," he answers just in time for the car to pull to a stop at the airport.

"Perhaps we should wait to continue this conversation until we are in the privacy of the jet."

Dpxdc AU: Damian decides that it’s time to go collect his brother from his assignment. Danny is starting to sniff out some non-ghostly bullshit for once.

Damian knew his twin had been exiled from the age of seven, banished to travel and observe how scientists around the world engaged with Lazarus water. The only word that Damian received that his spare was still alive were the letters of lab reports and findings that were sent back to base. As the Heir, he’s pushed to be better lest he himself be exiled or simply executed. Danny becomes a fleeting thought and then once Damian arrived in Gotham, a none existent thought.

They weren’t raised to be friends or even friendly. The were not taught codependency or allotted time to bond. The could have been perfect strangers if not for their appearance and the stories of Danny’s shortcomings becoming Damian’s praise.

It’s only once Tim informs him of an intercepted letter, one sent and saved from years prior, that Damian recalls Danny enough to care. Tim prompts him to share more, especially given the coup recently committed by Deathstroke (Slade) and Talia gone into hiding with her zealots.

At family dinner that night Damian supplies: “I suppose I should be the one to bereave my twin of his assignment. His reports will certainly go unread.”

Chaos in the Batfam ensues- meanwhile across the country- Danny sneezes and finishes writing his yearly report: “No major discoveries aside from public record patents (attached), No assistance required. -Spare”. He doesn’t know why he bothers, he hasn’t received any contact from his mother or grandfather since he was 10ish and certainly hasnt thought about his twin. But, if there’s a chance (even an itty bitty one) that his reports are being read and are holding off his reassignment, he’d rather keep assassins out of Amity Park.

Little does he know that this letter is about to be intercepted by Pru, former assassin and friend of Tim Drake. He hadn’t expected his twin to suddenly arrive and tell him that his job was done. And certainly, seeing a plane filled with an uncomfortable looking ‘family’ that requested he join them and get to know Gotham and his birth father, was not on his bingo list.

Danny does his best to let them down gently- and they seem to be accepting that he’s acclimated to this weird little town and will leave him be- when Danny suddenly has to transform into Phantom in front of them to handle a rocket sent by Skulker.

They are less willing to accept his appeal to be left alone after that… Damian is trying to “bond” with him and all the others are trying to “help” in their own way.

Sam and Tucker howl with laughter at Danny’s suddenly very large family- all while secretly working with the Wayne’s to get Danny the fuck away from the Fentons before the scientists do something they can’t undo.

[aliidarling]

I'm inlove with your writingg!😭

Danny with a fem!reader that cries very easily? Sfw and Nsfw please!

crybaby

DANNY JOHNSON x fem!reader

nsfw content — pls scroll if uncomfortable

summary; danny is very rough during naughty time… but he always makes sure to patch you up afterwards!

warnings; mean danny, rough sex, lil bit of feelings, confusing danny, aftercare, lil bit of blood, steve slander as always

i’m so sorry this took like a month i’ve been dying this past summer

danny doesn’t like hurting you. he doesn’t like to see blood splattered across your porcelain skin or see your face scrunched up in pain. it hurts him more then anything, even if he’s the supposed psychopath in this relationship.

but that doesn’t stop him from having his playtime with you. even if he claims he hates to see you crying, he eats those words each time he fucks you. fucking you was one of his favorite hobbies other then chasing down survivors and making their lives a hell.

pinning you down underneath him while shoving your face into a pillow was routine at this point, pulling down your pants and delivering a few quick swats to your heat. your sharp whimpers and squirms were always amusing to him, how you thought you could make him baby you with your puppy eyes and little cries..

well, you were right half the time. his heart melts each time you let out one of your infamous mewls, squirming as he pushes his cock impossibly deeper, rubbing his fat tip against your inner walls. the groan that leaves his throat is guttural, barely audible with how loud your moans were. you were definitely a crybaby, he notes. but he’s used to it at this point, he’s even starting to find it more arousing then anything.

“shhh,” he shushes meanly as he pushes forward again, his hands gripping the bed sheets by your side, his chest pressing against your back firmly. your skin is warm against his. so soft and delicate, he thinks, he can’t afford to hurt you more then he already has.

with a soft hum he bucks another harsh thrust into your pussy, your body jolting in response. you press your face down into the pillow more, eyes rolling back with tears welling at the sensation overwhelming your shaking body.

“what’s wrong?” he chuckles darkly as you shake beneath him, delicate like a flower, tainted and withering from his corruption. he swore you weren’t as much of a crybaby before you met him. did he ruin you? crack you open? you’re different now.

“d-danny, s’too— aah! ga— d—danny!” you stammer over your words like an idiot, words tumbling off your tongue in every way other then smoothly. you could taste your salty tears in your mouth now, reminding you how pathetic you were as he kept holding you down. like a toy. was that all you were to him? a stress reliever? he was so mean to you at times you questioned if he thought of you as anything more valuable then a cheap toy.

“stop crying, jeez.” he huffs lowly. he groans into your ear and batters your insides for a few more minutes before he eventually releases his seed inside you, painting your insides white, a not so gentle reminder on who you belong to. he keeps your hole nice and stuffed, you keep him nice and happy, it’s a fair deal.

“alright, alright.” a small grumble leaves him as he pulls his cock out from you with a small his, his seed leaking from your hole. he glances down and cringes subtly at the sight of your puffy lips and a tiny bit of blood mixing in with the white essence. did he really go that hard on you? he knew you were delicate but didn’t know *this* delicate.

“augh, doll, m’sorry.” he mutters quietly, his scarred hands gently turning you over onto your back. he uses these hands to stab and kill, yet he’s trying so hard to be gentle with you. he doesn’t know why, you’re nothing more then a body for him.

his movements are hesitant and careful as he cleans you up, small praises and sweet nothings slipping out of his mouth as easily as the curses and threats he tells his victims. hes so used to screaming and threatening others it feels unnatural to comfort you. unnatural but not unwelcome.

“see, there we go.” he coos. warm palms press against your cheeks and give them a small pat. you feel a tiny kiss to your forehead as you doze off, little sniffles still escaping you. “sweet dreams, my lil’ crybaby.” his tone is almost sickeningly sweet.

he’d never admit how much he actually cares for you.

[emacrow]

Danny wasn't the first to be contaminated with ectoplasm. Jazz was.

Thus contant angst and some gore. Viewer be advised.

Born and raised as a fenton without miraculously being effected by ecto while Jack and Maddie wear hazmut suits most the time up to her teen years would take a miracle.

Jazz knew she was effected by ectoplasm since she was a little girl, taking care of danny as a toddler and trying to make sure her brother doesn't eat the glowing green liquid in the freeze.

She didn't want him to get sick like she did... making sure the gadgets stay out of his line of sight.

He was innocent and too young to notice how ne-neglect her parents were being over their obsession of ghosts.

She was infected enough to see the tiny fading blobs flying around but never mentioned to her parents again after last time, and her parent stay in the basement for almost a week and half that time and missing Danny's birthday again.

Jazz was smart though, reading about psychology books far higher in intelligence then her age, and knew enough about the inventions that Jack made gave her an idea..

A terrible but brilliant idea to bring this family together, so danny could have the best childhood memories then hers..

She began sabotage some of their works to jam and malfunction, making some of their work papers as proof seem crazy to be denied so they actually spent time with her and danny as a Family and it was working well enough for years,....

Until the ghost portal work that day..

Then the ghosts coming out of it causing havoc which renew her parents obsession back from the very grave she has surely made they were buried...

Then finding her brother.. her sweet little brother had died and came back due to her sabotaging the portal with the turn on button being inside...

Something inside her crack a bit.

Helping him and distracting her parents was going well enough. Stealing the ecto shot to help her brother heal from the battles of facing the ghosts, red hunter, GIW and her parents. This was all her fault that she knew deep within..

Until Danny (her sweet little brother that she raise, care for, love)went missing during the middle of his sick day with no ghosts being out today when she decide to go get chicken soup from the store..

She should've seen it sooner when she came back and seen Danny's bed empty with spot mixed of ectoplasm and blood, dropping the chicken soup package from the store ..

Their parents loved them that she knew as she grabbed the fenton creep bat..

But she knew since she was a little girl..

Opening the basement door quietly, slowly and walking down the stairs without making a noise.

That they love their work more.

Her eyes burned with burning fierce firey green glow of pure rage and determination as she creep slowly aiming, as she swung the fenton creep hard on the back of Jack's head with a sickeningly crack, then next quickly hitting Maddie hard in the face as she knew they both won't listen to reason..

She know that would only buy her enough time consider Jack was a hard head, but maddie was out for good measurement. Taking the keys to the ecto shackles.

She know that if she were to cry, she will not stop crying if she did. Unshackling Danny's limbs, and pressing the off button on the ecto Ghost muzzle.

Checking to see if he lost any limbs or organs.. thankfully none yet...

"It's going to hurt, but we are leaving together.. ok danny?" She said with a watery tone looking into her brother's tear soaked red eyes, grabbing the ecto fishing string and a needle, giving Danny's a metal piece of material to bite on, onceshe pressed the freshly Y incision as she began to resew. Giving him a couple of Ecto-Dejecto to speed up the healing. (Pretending it was just a gash in her mind instead of seeing her brother's heart beating with a marble sized core buzzing leaking ectoplasmic mixed blood)

Once she sewed the wound up, rushing to put danny in the back of her car, getting the secretly duffle bags containing the things, New IDs, money, passports needed including a USB of the fenton portal and inventions blueprints in case anything happened(it did, it happen oh god..), rush back to the basment, press the button she had hidden in the lab to delete everything about all the information about the ghost portal and ghost files, the immediate lockdown everything including the portal in 5 minutes then self destruction meltdown minutes afterward.. afterall she did help made the lockdown, putting her own special password(She always make sure to had to backup plan to a backup plan..)

By the time she got to her car, and started driving at speed that would've gave her a police ticket, she didn't stop even when she saw the glowing ectoplasmic forced field emerged covering only the fenton house..

She didn't stop when she left the Amity Park border line.. She didn't stop when the loud ear piercing boom echoing.. she just drove to the only person in one place that would help her..

Her distant cousin twiced removed Edward Nashton whom live in Gotham.

[dilemmaontwolegs]

I totally see Daniel's Kitten giving the ultimate test for him to prove that he understands that either way she's his. She doesn't even let him touch her, books herself a separate room during races. Daniel is desperate like in the very beginning of their relationship. He's wants her so bad but she enjoys torturing him, spends time with another drivers, chooses more revealing clothes etc. And Daniel can only watch this. Just imagine Daniel after she says that he passed this test 👀

Temptation Snapshot || DR3 {4}

Pairing: Daniel Ricciardo x fem!reader Warnings: 18+ only, nsfw, hurt/comfort, smut WC: 1.5k F1 Masterlist Story: One || Two || Three || Four || Five Snapshots One || Two || Three || Four || Five

Daniel was asleep on Lando’s doorstep when you went to leave, startling awake as he fell through the opening he had been resting against. After a hot shower and cup of tea, you had finally calmed down but the evidence of a night spent crying still lingered on your face. 

“What are you doing here?” you asked as you crossed your arms. You desperately wanted to reach for him and snuggle into the thick padding of his hoodie he had his hands buried in. “Did you sleep there all night?”

“He’s the only one who didn’t answer his phone,” Daniel said hoarsely. “I tried Charles, Max and George so I figured you had to be here.”

Lando had heard the voices and approached the entrance to see Daniel a little worse for wear. It had been hard for him to ignore Danny’s calls but you had begged him not to, you just needed some time. Whether it was to bury your head in the sand, or to plan your future, you weren’t sure.

Daniel’s eyes turned to Lando and he waited with bated breath for the death threats to begin. It was always a risk letting you cross the threshold into his home but he was surprised when Daniel freed a hand from his hoodie pocket and said, “Thanks for taking care of her.”

“Of course, that’s what friends are for,” he said with a soft smile as they shook hands but it turned to a pained wince.

“A friend would have answered his phone so I didn’t have to wonder where my girlfriend was, waking half the city in my search.”

You should have been angry for what he did but you were still caught up on the word girlfriend, your heart scrambling to gather the fragments that had broken away when you thought it was over. 

“Girlfriend?” you asked quietly, hope filling your voice. 

“One argument and you think it’s over?” Daniel dared with a shake of his head before he reached for you and pulled you into his arms. “You’re mine, kitten, always,” he whispered in your ear. “I deleted it.”

“You shouldn’t have taken it,” you uttered under your breath. 

He pressed his lips to your temple and you shivered at how cold they were from a night in the elements. “I’m sorry, but I can never think clearly when it comes to you and just wanted something to take with me to testing.”

“I’ll take you to build-a-bear and make you one with my voice. I can’t promise it will say anything nice right now though.”

“I’ll take anything,” he chuckled before sobering up. “Just please forgive me?” 

You nodded your head, not trusting your voice not to crack as you heard the words you were longing to and collapsed in his arms. 

“Aww,” Lando cooed. “Told you everything would work out fine.”

“Don’t get me started, mate,” Daniel warned as he fingered the hem of the jumper you wore. “My girl doesn’t wear Quadrant.”

“She was cold! And I figured you’d prefer that over my LN4 hoodies. It’s new too, unreleased even.”

“Sniff,” you lifted the material to his face, “smells new.”

“Smells like you,” he hummed before grabbing the hem. “But you can wear mine home.”

He pulled the green hoodie over your head before taking his one off. It certainly wasn’t warm enough to just be in a Foo Fighters singlet but Daniel didn’t seem to feel the cold as he pulled his Enchanté hoodie over your body. “Much better,” Daniel said as he shot the hoodie at Lando, hitting him in the face with a smirk.

“Mate, that's €150 of organic cotton.”

“Send me the invoice,” he said with a wave over his shoulder before he looked back. “And you had better have slept on the couch or I’ll be back.”

“I’m not suicidal, gees,” Lando said as he rolled his eyes and cracked his back that was sore because he had slept on the couch. “See you guys on Thursday.”

Daniel was unusually quiet as you walked home hand in hand and you knew he was thinking hard when he nearly missed the entrance to the apartment. The door closing in the silence was louder than expected and you jumped a little at the bang. 

“I’m sorry,” Daniel apologised as he dropped onto the couch and pulled you over his lap so he could bury his face in your neck. “Please never leave me like that again. I was going out of my mind wondering where you were, if you were safe.”

Your throat clogged at the vulnerability in his voice and you felt guilty for not even sending one message to say you were fine, something to ease his mind. 

“Please never leave me again.”

“I never want to let you,” you promised as you combed his hair, soothing the worry that had knotted his insides all night. “I love you, Danny.”

“I love you too. And I know I’m possessive, I know I’m controlling. I can’t help it, you're my kitten and I need to protect you for my own sanity.” He twisted you to cage you beneath his body on the couch and a hand dipped between your thighs, pressing the seam of your leggings against your clit.

“I know, and I love that, I love being yours,” you sighed, before planting a hand on his chest and pushing him back. “But, when I get into trouble you punish me for it, and I think it’s only fair that it’s my turn.”

You crossed your legs and he pouted as his access was cut off. 

“How long?” he groaned as he buried his face in a couch cushion and palmed his erection to keep it from springing up. 

“I haven’t decided, but you’ll know.”

Media day had been a flop since Daniel had channelled his inner Kimi Räikkönen and remained silent for most of the interviews, giving the bare minimum answers and refusing to elaborate. If you weren’t receiving dirty looks from the fans you would have found it amusing that he was so grumpy because he hadn’t had sex in a few days. It would have been a lie to say you weren’t affected and in need of your own release but you were enjoying the control he normally held.

You particularly enjoyed seeing him struggle to keep his hands to himself when you made the rounds of the drivers and stopped by his room. Unable to resist taunting him further, you had rolled the hem of your skirt up to bare more of your legs that he loved so much before stepping inside.

“Hey daddy,” you teased as you rested your back against the door.

Daniel reclined deeper into his couch with a groan, his eyes tracing the length of your legs as he bit his fist to keep from reaching for you. “Fuck, kitten, don’t call me that, not now, please.”

“What’s wrong?” you asked innocently as you bit your lip to hide your smile.

“Come here,” he urged you as he fell to his knees and pushed the coffee table out of the way so you could stand above him, his hands pushing your skirt up to your hips. “Are you enjoying this, kitten? Is this making you wet?”

His fingers brushed your panties aside and you moaned as he teased you, getting closer to you than he had for days. You looked down at him as you raked your fingers through his hair while he savoured the scent of your arousal, brushing his nose along your thigh to nudge them wider before his tongue flicked out.

“Ah, fuck,” you cried at the sensitivity that came with days of denial. All thoughts of teasing him were gone, all those thoughts replaced with need and you pulled him closer so he could bury his face between your legs.

“Can I come home, kitten?” he asked, his warm brown eyes begging you to say yes. Your eyes fluttered shut as his fingers curled into your cunt and you nodded needing more.

Daniel growled happily as he grabbed your hips and cast you onto the couch, shoving his jeans down his thighs. Your panties were lost to the floor next and you relished the crazed look in his eyes as he spread your legs.

His beard tickled your thighs as he kissed and nipped his way across your skin, the small sharp bites sending bolts of lightning to your core. Like a starving man, he devoured you, his tongue lapping at your cunt until you were a quivering mess.

“I need you, please,” you begged as he knelt between your legs and dragged your hips to the edge, his swollen head already running through your wet folds.

“You’re done torturing me?” he asked as he inched slowly forward, slow enough to know he was torturing you in return.

“Yes, just fuck me already, daddy,” you whined as your body stretched to accommodate him.

With a sharp snap of his hips he buried himself all the way home and the guttural moan had your pussy clench. “Fuck, kitty, I missed you.”

Click here for another snapshot.

[spark-my-nature]

🎲😌

Kiss prompt! Ah!!

I just went with the flow, I hope this lil thing is up your alley, anon <3

Send in a prompt from here if you like friends :)

CW: non-graphic mentions of minor injury (scrapes)

~•~•~•~•~•~•~

33. A kiss to a scar, birthmark, injury, or other marking

If your teenage self thought that poise and gracefulness would come with age, you’d have been sorely mistaken. And of course the one person who’d been witness to the vast majority of your clumsiness was the one person you hated embarrassing yourself in front of the most.

Your cheeks flushed hot as you sat on the closed toilet seat in your bathroom, watching Danny scrambling to find a bandaid in your cabinet. Holding the damp paper towel to your scraped up knee, you knew Danny wouldn’t give you any grief over the childish but unstoppable pout of your bottom lip, but it still made you feel silly to be on the constant receiving end of his doting, (and to your further dismay) platonic care.

“Oh- fuck, it was right in front of me, I’m sorry,” Danny winced, hurrying to dig out the larger, knee-shaped bandage from the box. It helped your bruised ego that he was so kind and genuinely distraught at each one of your little accidents. It also admittedly made your heart flutter to be the patient under his unfettered attention.

“It’s okay,” you replied softly, watching him twist open the tiny cap of the polysporin in his big gentle hands. “Sorry for needing one so often.”

His eyes flashed up to yours for a tic, playful and warm, before squeezing a small bit onto his finger. “Don’t be sorry. I oughta carry around my own supply by now.”

You cracked a smile in response, scoffing and looking at the ceiling. “…shut up.”

Danny giggled softly, pulling the small bathroom stool out with his free hand and positioning it in front of you, sitting, or squatting really, at eye level with your hitched-up knee. “Ahhh, you know I love you,” he quietly reassured, coloring his tone with an affectionate amount of sarcasm. You watched his smile fade into concentration, gently taking your paper towel and wiping away the last traces of your driveway from the scrape. His tongue poked out between his lips, and your heart fluttered as he smeared the ointment over your knee as gentle as a breeze.

“Does that sting?”

Your eyes lifted from his mouth, blushing hot as your expression shifted from the no-doubt unnervingly intense way you’d been watching his lips. While the question was uttered genuinely, when Danny processed your curious focus on the lower half of his face, his lips quirked up into a teasing, yet somehow bashful smirk, and it made his question seem… leading.

“Nope! It’s good, you’re… fine,” you dismissed awkwardly, not at all comforted by the way his eyes trailed curiously over your flushed face.

He raised his eyebrows as he looked down, wiping his finger clean on the paper towel and starting to peel the wrapper off the bandaid. He seemed to be fighting a grin, and it made your stomach flip when he dropped his voice into a smooth rumble, the tone reminiscent of when he talked about Metallica in one particular interview.

“You sure…?”

He kept his eyes on his nursing duties, smoothing the bandage over your knee with a smirk that was starting to make you sweat.

With a final caress of his thumbs outwards from the center to the edges of the bandaid, firmly adhering it to your knee, Danny innocently lifted his disarming hazel eyes to yours, awaiting your response.

Smoothing your hands down the skirt of your dress, you chuckled awkwardly, “Yeah…? Of course.”

You started to bring your doctored-up leg down from the edge of the lid, but Danny gently caught your shin, resettling your shoe back in its place. Keeping his warmly mischievous eyes on yours, he brought his face to your knee, and his crooked grin widened a touch at your uneven inhale.

“Forgot the most important part.”

Holding eye contact, he slightly turned his head, and pressed a gentle kiss to your bandaged knee, his puckered lips forming that same flirtatious smirk once more.

“O-oh,” you nodded, winded for no sane explanation. “Right. Thanks.”

Danny’s eyes crinkled with a giggle, helping you lower your leg back down into place, but not moving himself away. His close proximity on the stool kept you from even being able to stand up, let alone escape before he could make even quicker work of your rapidly dwindling composure.

His hands, both of them, warm and always soft everywhere except those calluses that protected his hands, rested on top of your thighs. He watched your face, apparently amused greatly by the way it made you tense and jerk subtly. It infuriated you almost as much as it was melting you from the inside out.

“Do I make you nervous?”

He was far too cool and collected for your comfort as he delivered that bomb of a question. Scrambling to dissuade his suspicion, you blew a loose psht sound and rolled your eyes.

“No?? If I am, it’s only ‘cause of your doctor-ing.”

He raised a playful brow at you, never letting you out from under the spotlight of his glimmering gaze. “Oh. Here I was thinking you liked being my little patient.”

“Hm, well, your bedside manner could use some work,” you rebutted, grinning at his scoff. It was wiped off your face nearly immediately though as Danny rose off his stool and leaned into your personal space, bracing one hand on the wall behind the toilet. His face hovered over yours, and you were too caught in his headlights to keep your wide eyed, timid expression hidden.

“Bedside manner,” he muttered sarcastically, his free hand coming up to cradle your jaw. The sensation kick started your self awareness, and you quickly closed your jaw, swallowing nervously as your eyes darted between his. He noticed, because of course he did with his perceptiveness and his terrifyingly close view of you. It made him smile down at you even wider, his gaze following the movement of your mouth and getting stuck there.

You blinked up at him, nervously raising your eyebrows at him in question. He looked back into your eyes, demurely playful and so warmly murmuring, “I’ll show you bedside manner.”

And then it was the split second of him leaning in, your eyes closing in nearly blind panic, and then the warm soft and perfectly damp press of his lips to yours.

He let his lips linger for a moment, then he sweetly lifted his face to let you breathe.

Humiliatingly, that took you another moment to do, and when you finally took a shaky gasp of air, Danny had the nerve to giggle adorably at your reaction. The only thing preserving the last scraps of your dignity was the slightly manic quality of it that belied his own nerves, finally. Your eyes opened, struggling to focus on his slightly dazed but pleased face from its minuscule distance away.

“Danny,” you quietly giggled back, his name sounding almost chastising from your flustered and girlishly breathless voice.

“Hm?” He innocently hummed, biting his lip through his smile.

You simply blinked up at him for a moment, then your shaky hands rose to his collar and fisted his soft t shirt, tugging him back down. His boyish smile molded to your parted lips in another, deeper kiss, and this time, your stomach flipped as his jaw flexed, moving his mouth with yours smoothly.

For all his teasing, his breath shuddered out through his nose, and the hand that cradled your face trembled slightly as he slowly slipped it back into your hair. He used his new position to pull your head even closer, tilting his own to angle his jaw a little more.

As his lips parted for another knee buckling kiss, you sighed against his mouth, the sound tinged with a whine of relief, one born from finally satiating so much time spent craving this very moment. Danny, much to your pleasure, answered with a gruff, breathy groan of his own, and he took the opportunity with the next parting of his lips to slide his tongue, hot and devastatingly sexy, along your bottom lip.

Your moan was audibly whiny then, and you tentatively met his invitation with a brush of your own against his. Danny then pulled away a little sharper than the first time, taking a deeper gasp of air and panting slightly against your lips.

Butterflies wrestling like competitive stags in your stomach, your face broke into an uncontrollable smile, and it quickly infected Danny’s face as well. You both started chuckling, a little shy, a little blitzed out on adrenaline, and a lot of happy.

“…D’you feel, uh, adequately doctored now?” Struggling to speak steadily through his breathless and gentle laughter, Danny curled and straightened his fingers through your hair in a loving caress.

Speechless and stunned, you simply nodded up at him, croaking out a small “mhm!”

He nodded, brushing his lips against yours. “Perfect.”

~•~•~•~•~

Thank you for reading! Everyone who read this gets a forehead kiss from Danny, I don’t make the rules :)

[neverwanttofallasleep]

I Never Want To Fall Asleep - Chapter 7

Word count: 5,313

For pairings, warnings, and disclaimer - see Masterpost

(this chapter contains explicit sexual content!)

Sunday, December 25th, 2022

Frankenmuth, Michigan

You can hear tapping. In your half-conscious state, you convince yourself that it’s getting louder and louder as the seconds pass. You groan and roll over toward the window, pulling the covers up around your ears, a little of the light from the porch filtering in. As you wake up further, you realise the tapping is coming from the window itself.

Now that you’re becoming more lucid, you start to get freaked out. Why would someone or something be tapping on your window in the middle of the night?

You dig around next to you for your phone, still quietly playing Hozier from its little speaker. You turn the music off and check the time. 12.37am. You have a few messages, and you unlock your cell, the tapping persistent.

Not really thinking, you swipe the most recent message from Jake, and the whole thread pops up. Two days of unread texts. You’d muted him, so you hadn’t even seen the notifications. You skim them all, and since about 10am today, he hasn’t messaged. Until an hour ago.

11.38pm Jake: Are you awake? I need to talk to you. 

11.40pm Jake: I have to see you.

11.40pm Jake: Y/N, please reply.

11.41pm Jake: It really can’t wait, I need to see you tonight.

11.42pm Jake: <missed call>

11.58pm Jake: Danny told me where you’re staying, please let me come over. I have to explain what’s been going on with me. Call me back or something please. Anything.

12.15am Jake: I’m so sorry for everything. I’m sorry about Lily, I’m sorry I haven’t really told you anything. I want to fix things between us so badly, you have to believe me. I really have to make this right. 

12.23am Jake: I’m coming to you. I’ll be there in 15 minutes.

12.36am Jake: <2 missed calls>

12.37am Jake: I’m here, please let me in.

Another one pops up.

12.38am Jake: Please, Y/N.

You throw back the covers, springing out of bed. You don’t even care what you look like. You’re furious. You march to the door and swing it open. Jake steps into view, away from the window, and your heart drops a little. He looks terrible, his hair limp around his shoulders, wearing sweats and a hoodie. You can see his eyes are red and puffy.

You don’t care. You’re fuming. How could he do this, again? Why couldn’t he respect your need for privacy?

“What the fuck, Jake?”

He opens his mouth to speak, but you don’t let him.

“What part of you thought this would be okay? Tapping on my window? You scared the shit out of me. How many times do you have to come to me in the middle of the night, apologising? I told your brothers not to tell you where I was. I’m fine. I need space. Go home, Jake.”

He sighs, shakily. “I’m sorry.”

“Sorry isn’t gonna cut it. It’s almost 1 in the morning. I need to sleep.”

He's staring at the ground, and he starts to cry. “Y/N, please.” He doesn’t even really seem to know what he’s asking you for. “I just, uh,” he chokes a little, “I just need to explain myself. Please let me do that. And if you still hate me afterwards,” he sobs, “fuck, I’ll understand. I just need to tell you this.”

You feel your heart ripping for him in your chest. You sigh. “I don’t hate you.”

He sniffles and looks up at you. “You don’t?”

“Of course I don’t. I just needed to get away. Be on my own.”

He’s wiping his eyes. God, he looks awful. “I didn’t want you to be on your own. Fuck, Y/N. That’s not why I brought you here. I wanted us to be together, y’know, with my family.”

“Well, that’s just not how it worked out. I’m sorry, Jake. I can’t be there with you under the circumstances.”

He sighs defeatedly. “I know that.”

You’ve come this far. Maybe you do want to hear him out. “Why are you here, Jake?”

He looks directly at you, and you feel like he can see inside your mind. Feel your resolve cracking. As he speaks, you feel your ears go deaf. 

“Lily and I broke up. I, uh... I think I'm in love with you, Y/N.”

You think you might throw up.

“What the fuck are you talking about?” You choke.

He can see what he’s said has done to you, and he reaches forward, as if to catch you. You withdraw quickly, faltering backwards into your room.

He’s just standing in the doorway watching you. “Can I please come in?” He finally asks.

You nod, unable to speak.

He walks uncertainly, like he’s worried you might snap and throw him out at any second. You might. He sits on one of the chairs at the table, and turns himself to face the bed, toward you.

You think you might be in shock. At one point in time, those words might have elicited a completely different reaction from you. But all you can feel right now is wracking, bone shattering guilt. After a few moments of standing in the centre of the room, practically shaking, you force yourself to sit down on the bed, facing him.

“You broke up with her?” You whisper.

He nods. “She broke up with me, actually.”

“When?” You feel like you’re gasping for breath.

“Thursday night.” He’s settled now, not crying anymore. Seems like he’s now the rational one between of the two of you.

“You broke up because of me?”

He sighs. “No. I guess partly. But no, it was coming for a long time.”

You let out the breath you’ve been holding. “What do you mean?”

“We’ve not really been together since before the tour. We decided to go on a break before I left, things were, uh, pretty rough. I didn’t tell anyone except Josh. And I think we both separately decided while I was away that things weren’t gonna work out. I knew she was gonna be here, but we’d agreed to not see each other until after Christmas. I was supposed to break up with her next week, but Sam ran into her, and she came over and saw you. She, uh, she got there first.”

“So it was because of me?” You try to swallow, but you can’t. It feels like there are rocks in your throat.

He shakes his head. “Lily and I haven’t been on the same page for a long time. We’ve been holding on to this relationship because it’s what we know, and we each cared too much about the other to let it end. I’ll always love her, but it took me until I met you to realise that I can have more than one love of my life.” He sighs. “She saw it, too. I think that’s what made up her mind.”

That sick feeling is creeping up on you again. “I didn’t mean for that to happen."

He sighs. “I know. It’s not your fault. Please don’t think of it like that. She’s known for a while that it was over, and I think I have, too.”

You start to cry. Jake looks as if he might get up to comfort you, but perhaps he thinks better of it. You close your eyes, wishing you could disappear.

You feel the bed jostle beside you, and his cold hand make contact with your thigh. You open your eyes and turn to face him, and you can feel his warm breath, his eyes boring into yours. You just stare at him, tears still staining your cheeks. His eyes flick between yours, as if he’s searching for an answer.

“Why are you wearing my sweater?” He breathes, his other thumb brushing away your tears.

At the same time, you collide. Your lips meet in a frenzy, nipping and licking, rushing to explore each other in a way you never have. He grips your thigh, his fingers digging into the soft flesh. Your hands grab at one another blindly, searching for purchase. Without breaking apart, your fingers find the hem of his sweatshirt and pull at it, silently asking him to take it off.

He complies, barely giving you a second to breathe before his mouth is back on yours, quickly moving down your jaw and neck, leaving open mouthed kisses and angry red marks in his wake. You run your hands wildly up and down his bare back, gripping the base of his neck, fingers knotting in his long hair.

He pulls at your sweater (his sweater) and you break from him, lifting your arms to allow him to remove it for you. His eyes burn with such intensity when he looks at your bare chest, you feel a tingle spread over the entire surface of your body. He immediately attaches his lips to your collarbone, biting the soft skin there, and licks a stripe down to your sternum. His hand finds your throat, the tips of his fingers winding into your hair, the other wildly palming your breast.

You let out a whimper, and he groans into your chest, pulling your other nipple gently between his teeth. It burns, but it feels nice. You grip the back of his hair, holding him in place. Once he’s given one breast sufficient attention, he moves to the other to repeat his actions. You moan. You can feel that familiar fluttering between your legs, and your heart is racing.

You’re still sort of sitting on the edge of the bed, him now on his knees and you facing him, your arms propping you up, your legs on either side of him. He’s digging his thumbs into the creases between your hip and thigh, and you want more. Harder, closer. He gives your clavicle a final wet kiss, removing his mouth with a pop. You let out a whimper at the loss of contact, your breathing jagged. When he looks up at you, his eyes are dark.

He sits back a little, and you think he’s about to continue with this manic worship of your body, but instead, he stops his movements, his hands splayed firmly on your hips. You can see his hard cock straining through his sweatpants, it makes you shiver. He leans down close to your face, not quite close enough to connect your lips, and he sighs.

“Fuck, I love you.” He whispers.

You feel your body tense as the reality of what you’re doing hits you like a wave. They broke up two days ago. Your throat feels tight, like you can’t breathe. This doesn’t feel good. It doesn’t feel right.

He begins to plant small kisses on your nose and cheeks, and you place your palms against his shoulders and push him back, away from you.

“Stop.” You say, but it comes out weak.

He does, and pulls back to look at you questioningly.

“Put your clothes back on.” You try to sound authoritative, but by the concern painting his face you know it sounds pathetic.

You close your eyes, trying to take a deep breath.

When you open them a few moments later, he’s still there, sitting back on his heels, now with his hoodie on. Still giving you that same look. Loving, you’d say, if you had to put a name to it now. But it doesn’t feel like you thought it would, when you imagined this moment. It hurts.

When you finally speak again, it comes out strangled. “I think you should go, Jake.”

He looks like he’s been smacked across the face. “I want to be with you, Y/N. I thought you wanted that too. I know you’re scared. It’s okay.”

You sob. “I can’t. Please just go.”

He sits for a few more moments, as if he can’t accept what you’ve said.

Finally, he stands from the bed, and without a word, he leaves.

You curl up, hugging your knees to your chest, heaving breaths.

You’d wanted this. ��I love you.’ The words you’d wanted to hear from him for so long. But they didn’t feel good. They felt muddy and broken, like they’d been dipped in poison. Lily had ended a nine year relationship with Jake, because of you. You were heartbroken. For him, for her, and for yourself.

You feel your phone buzz underneath you.

1.13am Sammy: we’re here. we followed him when he said he was coming. saw him leave, just wanna make sure you’re ok. we can come up or just leave you be if you want. x

1.14am You: Please come here

You throw Jake’s sweater back on, and less than a minute later, you hear the door creak open. You leap up, crumbling straight into Danny’s arms, sobs ripping from you. You can’t even bring yourself to be upset that he told Jake where you were, you just need his comfort right now.

You hear the door close as Danny pets your hair, shushing you softly.

“It’s okay. You’re okay. We’re here. You’ll be okay.”

You hear small noises around the room, the kettle clicking on, the bathroom door being opened and closed, a glass being set down on your night stand, Sam offering Danny a tea. Eventually Danny ushers you back toward the bed, sitting you down, still keeping his arms tightly around you. 

You can feel the dampness of his coat under your cheek from your tears, but you can’t bring yourself to care. You’re just sniffling now, hiccoughing, but you can’t speak.

“I know, Y/N. It’s gonna be okay.” He strokes your head with one hand and rubs your arm with the other.

You feel pathetic. Jake’s brothers, his support system, here with you, when he’s just as upset as you are. As you realise this, you gasp and pull back from Danny.

“Who’s with Jake? Also, it’s Christmas! You guys shouldn’t be here!” You sniffle.

Danny shushes you again and pulls you back into his arms. “We want to be here for you. We love you. And Jake’s headed home to be with Josh. He’s okay.”

You let out a noise that sounds like a wail. Danny doesn’t falter, he just keeps patting you, shushing you, whispering affirmations into your hair. You hear Sam sit down at the table across from you, where his brother had been sitting not minutes before.

“Christ, Y/N. What did he say to you?” Sammy breathes.

You feel Danny shake his head, but you look up at Sam.

“He told me…” you gasp, “that he… and Lily… that they broke up.”

You crumble back into Danny’s chest. “And that he loves me.” You whine through a sob.

They boys don’t speak, Danny just continues to comfort you. You can sense some sort of silent conversation happening between the two of them.

Finally, Danny speaks. “I’m so sorry I told him where you were.”

“It’s… okay…” You blubber.

“No, it’s not. I shouldn’t have gone against what you asked of us. I just heard his side of the story, and I felt like you needed to hear it, too.”

You whimper. “I know… Danny… it’s okay.”

The three of you sit in almost silence, save for your pathetic noises of grief, for a long time. You don’t know how long. You understand why Danny told Jake. If you were in his position, you’d have done the same thing. Everything Jake had said should’ve been something you’d want to hear, the way he’d touched you something you’d dreamed about for so long. It just didn’t feel right.

Eventually you sit up properly, but Danny stays constant by your side. Sam passes you both cups of tea. You don’t drink yours, but you hold it in your hands for the comfort. 

When you can, you begin to fill them in on bits and pieces of your conversation with Jake. How you’d started off angry with him, then shocked about his revelation, and ultimately crushed that you’d felt so awful about the whole thing that you’d kicked him out. You leave out the part about the almost-sex.

“Is that really what you want? For him to leave you alone? ‘Cause you know he will, if you ask him to. Now you know everything, so if you tell him to fuck off, he’ll respect it. I’m sure he will.”

You give Sam a sad look. “Of course not, Sammy. I’d imagined this scenario in my head a million times, and I always imagined saying it back. But I’d never considered her, or that relationship. I can’t be responsible for that, and I can’t be a rebound.”

Sam nods. “I get that. But I don’t see it that way, and I don’t think Jake does, either. He’s had plenty of opportunity for rebounds with all the girls he’s been with on tour. I don’t think that’s what you are for him.”

You sniff. “But what about her? I feel like I’ve ruined her life.”

“Lily’s her own person, Y/N.” Danny chimes in. “From what Jake told us, it sounded like that relationship was over for her just as much as it was for him. She made the choice, and that’s not on you. They both deserve to be happy.”

You nod, but you’re uncertain.

Danny pulls out his phone, you assume checking the time.

“We should probably go soon, it’s getting late.”

You nod. “What time is it?”

“Almost 2.30.” He says sheepishly.

“Fuck. Yes, you should definitely go. You have to be with your families in the morning. Please, go home.” You stand and usher them toward the door.

Danny stands too, straightening his coat. Sam tosses him the car keys.

“I’m gonna stay. Josh will come get us in the morning. You take my car home and we’ll sort it out later.”

Danny nods.

“No, Sam, you don’t need to do that. I’m okay.”

He shakes his head. “I want to.”

You give him a small smile. “Okay. Thank you.”

Danny wraps you in another big hug, this one a bit less pitiful.

“Good night, Y/N. I’ll see you tomorrow, if you’re still around.”

You nod into his chest. “Thank you. For everything. Love you.”

“Love you, too. Get some sleep, kiddo. Don’t let Sam keep you up with his snoring.”

You giggle. “Good night.” You gasp. “Wait, Danny!”

He turns around.

“I have to give you something.”

He looks at you questioningly.

You head over to your duffle, rummaging around until you find it. You turn to face away from the boys so they can’t see you, and fold it up neatly. No way to wrap gifts when you’re stuck in a motel without a car, so this will have to do.

“Close your eyes!” You say, and Sam giggles.

Danny hums. “Okay, they’re closed.”

You turn and walk over to him. “Hold out your hands.”

He does, and you place the folded scarf into his palms.

“Okay, you can open.”

He does, and he gives a little gasp as he unfolds your gift.

“Did you make this?”

You nod.

“They’re your colours, Daniel.” Sam says quietly.

Danny holds up the dark purple and blue scarf in his hands, and he almost looks a bit emotional. “I love it. Thank you, Y/N.”

You give him another hug. “In case I don’t see you. Merry Christmas, Danny.”

He hugs you back. “Merry Christmas, Y/N.”

Danny winds the scarf around his neck, pats Sam on the shoulder, and heads out.

You and Sam don’t talk much before you go to sleep. You get up to put away the cups while Sam uses the bathroom, and then you quietly pad back to bed. As Sam reemerges, you snuggle yourself back under the covers on your side. Sam silently undresses, leaving himself in just his boxers. He smiles at you sheepishly.

“Forgot to pack my jammies.”

You giggle. “It’s okay.”

He slides in, getting comfortable. “You’re lucky I see you like a sister, Y/N, or this might’ve gotten uncomfortable real fast.”

You feel yourself turning red. “I’m more worried about Lennon. Is she okay with you doing this for me?”

Sam chuckles. “Fuck, if you only knew. She gets turned on by the idea of me with other girls.”

You swat him. “Sam!”

He just laughs again. “She’s freaky like that.”

You giggle, and you both lay there in silence for a while.

“Thank you, Sam.”

He rolls toward you. “What for?”

“Being my friend.”

“It’s my pleasure.” You can hear him grinning as he turns off the lamp.

You take his hand over the covers, and you fall asleep to the sound of his breathing.

When you wake in the morning, for a brief moment, when you see the dark mop of hair on the pillow beside you, you forget who it is. They look so alike.

Sam groans and rolls over to turn off his alarm. You check your own phone, and scold yourself for being disappointed that you have no new messages. 7.31am.

“‘Morning, princess.” Sam says in a sleepy voice, patting your hand. “Sleep okay?”

“‘Morning, Sammy. Yeah, fine. You?”

“Terribly. Was tossin’ and turnin’ all night.”

You giggle. Sam was out like a light within minutes and slept the whole way through. You know this, because you weren’t so lucky. 

“Is that right?”

“Yeah, awful. There was some girl in the bed hogging all my blankets and snoring like a chainsaw.”

You smack him lightly on his bicep. “Oh, fuck off. I do not snore.”

He chuckles. “How would you know?”

You roll your eyes. “What time is Josh coming?”

He lifts his phone to hold it above his face, his silky, dark hair splayed around his head like a halo. Jake’s hair does that, too, but Jake’s is always a little more messy in the mornings. It’s a different texture, his curls stick to his cheeks, strands glinting golden in the morning light.

Sam frowns, scrolling through his messages. “Ah, like eight-ish. Gonna grab a shower before he gets here. Can I use your towel?”

You nod. “Yeah, of course.”

He springs out of bed with a surprising amount of energy, bouncing to the bathroom.

You pull back the covers and hop out of bed yourself, stretching and running your hand over your face. You feel like you didn’t sleep at all. You must’ve gotten a couple of hours, but there was definitely a while sometime in the early morning when you just lay there, contemplating everything Jake, Danny and Sam had said to you in the hours prior.

You pad over to the kettle and turn it on, hunting for the instant coffee packets. You were kind of getting used to them now. You could go to the dining hall and get drip coffee, but you didn’t want to see anyone. You make one for yourself and one for Sam, and leave them on the table while you hunt through your bag for a Christmas-appropriate outfit. 

You settle on a loose, long, black dress, stockings and your brown Doc Marten work boots. They’re your most comfortable shoes, and the only thing you have with you other than the matching black lace-up pair you wear for shows and your beat-up white sneakers. You decide you’ll finish the outfit with Jake’s knitted sweater and your big red scarf. You don’t really know what it means, for you to choose to wear his sweater, but it feels comforting.

Once you’ve laid out your clothes on the bed, you dig through your duffle for your gifts, stowing them in your purse before Sammy can see. In your free time at the motel over the past few days, you’ve managed to crochet some colourful little flowers for Ronnie, Lennon and Kai, maybe to wear as brooches or put on hair clips, a pot holder for Karen and a beer cozy for Kelly using your wool scraps. You’re satisfied with your gifts. They’re small, but they’re homemade, and they’re a token of your appreciation for the family that took you in this Christmas.

When Sam’s finished in the bathroom, you shower and dry your hair, putting on a little makeup to hide the circles under your eyes. As you survey yourself in the mirror, you notice a few small purple marks blooming on your neck and collarbone. Your throat gets tight, and you dab them with a little concealer. The sweater should cover them, anyway.

You decide to leave your hair out and flowing over your shoulders, just pinning back a few pieces by your temples to frame your face. You feel okay. You don’t really know who you’re trying to impress. Karen, you tell yourself. You have to look nice for Karen.

Sam takes his coffee and politely goes out to the balcony for a smoke so you can get dressed. When you’re ready, you tidy the room a little. You’ll be back here tonight, cause there’s no way you can get a flight, or an Uber for that matter, on Christmas Day. You might have to wait it out until Tuesday before you can get yourself back to New York. You make the bed, and hang the wet towel up in the bathroom. You grab your coffee and head out the front door to join Sam. Surely it was close to 8am now, if not past.

You find him leaning over the balcony, on FaceTime with Lennon. She squeals when she sees you.

“Merry Christmas, Y/N!” She looks like she’s wearing red and white Christmas-themed pyjamas, and you can hear the giggles and shrieks of small children in the background. That must be her nieces and nephews.

You smile. “Merry Christmas, Lennon. How’s Memphis?”

“Surprisingly freezing! We’ve had snow for the first time I can remember, it’s so nice. Really feels like the holidays.”

“I’m so glad! Sounds like it’s hectic over there.”

Sam holds the phone between you both so you can see properly, and she can see you. In the background, you can see a huge Christmas tree, and two little boys darting back and forth, chasing each other with nerf guns.

Lennon giggles. “Yeah, the little ones have been up since 5am. The grumpy teenager is still asleep, but I think her brothers are planning to go in and jump on her if she’s not up before 8.30.” She laughs.

You laugh too. “That sounds like fun! How is your sister?”

“She’s great! Happy to palm the kids off to me and my dad for babysitting duties, I think. But how are you? How’s Frankenmuth? Are you ready to head to the Kiszkas’?”

“Yeah, I think we’re just waiting on Josh?” You look at Sammy.

“Yup, he texted a few minutes ago. Said he was just getting in the car.”

You smirk. “Of course he was.” Ah, well. Being a little late wouldn’t hurt. The Kiszkas’ weren’t little kids anymore, and you imagined Jake was probably still asleep, anyway.

Lennon pulls your attention back to her. “Hon, Sammy told me a little bit about what went down between you and Jake. Are you alright?”

You nod. “Yeah, I’m okay. It’s just messy.”

“Jake’s a fuckwit.” Sam interjects, and you give a tight smile.

Lennon ignores him. “I know, of course it is. But it’ll work itself out. I know you didn’t ask for my advice, but I’m gonna give it to you anyway. You and Jake are supposed to be together. Anyone with half a mind can see that. I was only on the tour with y’all for three days and I could see it. I know it feels hard now, maybe even wrong, but you’ll get there. Lily is okay. I’ve spoken to her a bit, and she seems like she’s doing good. Try not to worry about that.”

You breathe a deep sigh. Lennon was just telling you what she thought you wanted to hear. 

“Thank you. I dunno, I just think I need time to process it all.”

She smiles. “Then take that time, girl. There’s no rush. Try to enjoy yourself today. Spend time with Karen and Ronnie, and Joshy and Sammy will look out for you, won’t you, babe?”

Sam nods. “Yeah, ‘course.”

At that moment, you see Jake’s car pull in, and your stomach drops. Sam puts a hand on your arm.

“It’s Josh.”

You nod, your head swimming.

“Okay, baby, he’s here. We gotta go. I’ll call you later?”

“Bye, Lennon!” You call, turning to head back into the room. Sam follows.

“Good luck, Y/N!” She calls back. “Have a great time, babe. Give your momma and daddy a big hug and kiss from me.”

“I will. Love you, baby.”

“Love you, too. Miss you. Merry Christmas.”

You feel a little intrusive listening in on the conversation. You can hear the adoration dripping from Sam’s voice as they say goodbye.

You shove your last bits and pieces into your purse and give the room a final sweep. Sam puts the coffee mugs by the bathroom sink, grabs his wallet from the night stand, and follows you out the door.

When you get down to the car, you quickly make your way to the back drivers side seat. You know Josh isn’t going to hold anything against you, but you’re a little scared to face him after last night. You wonder what Jake told him.

As Sammy clambers into the passenger seat, giving his brother the goofiest grin, Josh greets you both.

“Merry Christmas, stowaways. Sam, Mom was so pissed when she found out you weren’t home this morning. You might have a tongue-lashing coming.”

You feel guilty.

Sam chuckles. “She can suck it. We’ll be home before Jake’s even awake. What’s she worried about?”

Josh smirks. “I dunno, something about it being ‘Christmas tradition for all the kiddos to wake up under the one roof’, or some shit like that.” He does a terrible impersonation of Karen, and you hold back a giggle.

Sam rolls his eyes. “Oh, whatever. She’ll survive. We’ll be there in like 20 minutes.”

Josh pulls out of the parking lot and out onto the main road.

He looks at you in the rearview. “How are you this morning, Y/N? Sleep okay?”

You nod. “Yeah, fine. Happy Christmas, Josh.”

He smiles. “And to you, my love.”

And that’s that. You’re grateful he doesn’t ask you about Jake, but you imagine it’s for his own sake as much as yours. There’s a nagging little part of you that just wants to check, see if he’s okay, but you don’t. You’ll be seeing him soon anyway.

You’re quiet during the drive, letting Sammy and Josh bicker in the front about Josh’s music choices, and what you’ll be eating for lunch. You lean back into the car seat, and you’re surrounded by the familiar smell of Jake, embedded in the leather. When you near the Kiszkas’ house, you begin to feel your tummy swirling, and your hands get clammy.

Hold it together, you tell yourself. You can do this. You’re brought back to the minutes when you first arrived here, you and Jake sitting in the car. You can almost feel his hand resting on yours, and hear his words. 

‘I want you here with me. That’s all that matters.’

You feel tears well in your eyes and you try to bite them back.

As you go to get out of the car, your phone buzzes.

8.42am Jake: I won’t bring it up. Just try to act normal for my family. They really want you here, too. I know you’ll be feeling bad about your mom and dad. Try to enjoy it.

‘Too.’ It was still true. He did want you here. And you still wanted him. Now you had a choice to make. What were you going to do?

Chapter 8 (Part 1)

@ohgodthefeeling-gvf @profitofthedune @sinarainbows @klarxtr @jakesgrapejuice @gretavangroupie @mackalah @clairesjointshurt

Message me if you'd like to be added to the tag list!

[fangirlwriting-stories]

Dam Still Holding

Summary: After patching Danny up from a nasty fight, Tucker spends the night to make sure he's okay.

Author's Note: Fun fact, I did originally write this for seasons skirmish, but then I'd realized I'd gotten away from the prompt too much for it to fit, so I'm gonna take another crack at that prompt, and you all can expect another short Danny Phantom fic sometime in the near future, but for now have this!

...

Tucker wakes with a panicked gasp, which is just unfair, honestly.  Sure, he has the aversion to hospitals and medical procedures, but Danny was the one who had to have a giant gash in his chest sewn up, and Danny’s snoring away in the bed next to him.

Tucker drops his head onto his knees and takes a deep breath.  Danny’s the one who got hurt, and Danny’s fine, he shouldn’t be reacting like this.  But he can still feel his hands shaking as he threads the needle, and knowing that he has to steady them or he’s just going to make things worse for Danny, who’s lying unconscious in front of him.  He remembers wishing that he’d told Sam no, she actually can’t go on that family vacation, he knows she’ll hate it anyway please stay here he needs her, he’s going to need her because Danny’s about to get himself torn open again in another ghost fight and Tucker can’t help with that he’s terrible at it—

Tucker takes a couple staggering deep breaths, and apparently it’s loud enough to wake Danny, because he feels a hand on his arm and a gentle voice saying “Tucker?”

Tucker lifts his head to find Danny looking at him, obvious concern on his face.  As soon as he sees Tucker, his frown deepens, and he reaches over and wraps his arms around him.  “Hey, I’m okay,” he murmurs.

Tucker pulls Danny in closer with a mumbled “Sorry.”

“It’s alright,” Danny says.

“No, I mean, you’re the one who got hurt,” Tucker says.

“Hey, you’ve never done this before,” Danny says.  “I’m used to patching myself up.”

“That doesn’t make it better.”

Danny shrugs and gives a sad smile.

“I’m alright,” he says.  “Heart still beating and everything.  Well, half the time.”  He gives a lopsided smile to Tucker, and succeeds in making him laugh.

“How do you do that all the time?” Tucker asks.  “With the blood and the disinfectants and the needles.   And I’m not even in pain.”

“I just got used to it I guess,” Danny says again.  “And it doesn’t hurt as bad anymore.”

Tucker gives him a disbelieving look.

“Really,” Danny says.  “The scale’s kind of… adjusted, you know?”

Unfortunately, Tucker does know.  His mom talks about that sometimes, that patients with chronic pain tend to have a different pain scale, and she’ll have to give them a pain scale with qualifiers for what each number means whenever she asks how much it hurts.

The fact that one of his best friends uses a similar kind of pain scale is something Tucker has never been comfortable with.

“Did I do an okay job?” Tucker asks quietly, because if he thinks about that for too long he’ll just start shaking again.

“For the first time you’ve done it?  Yeah,” Danny says.  “It’s clean, you used the right stuff that I can’t phase through, and you stayed with me afterwards to make sure I was alright.  Even though you’re not good with medical stuff.  Thank you, Tucker.  Really.”

Tucker looks Danny firmly in the eyes.  “It really doesn’t hurt that badly?”

Danny winces, and Tucker knows he has him.

“I’ve had a lot worse,” Danny says.  There’s a not insignificant amount of bitterness in his voice.

“That doesn’t answer my question.”

“Well, what would you do about it anyway?  It’s not any worse than normal.  I’m gonna be fine.”

Tucker sighs, and leans forward until he can pull Danny into a hug.  “I know,” he mumbles.  “I just hate seeing you get hurt.”

“I’m okay, Tucker.”

Another thing his mom tells him about her chronic pain patients is that they’ve gotten used to ignoring the pain most of the time.  That it’s more of a background hum, but sometimes little things can set off a breakdown that seems to come out of nowhere, when they’re tired of being in pain all the time and want it all to stop and it won’t.

And sure, Tucker hates medical stuff.  But he can look out for Danny.  And he knows what it looks like when his best friend is close to a dam breaking moment.

But it’s also late, and they’re both tired, and Tucker has a feeling pushing Danny tonight won’t end well for anyone.  He’ll just have to make sure to be there for Danny when he’s needed.

So for now, Tucker says, “Okay,” and lays back down on the bed.  Danny lays down next to him, and Tucker wraps his arms around him without thinking, though being gentle of the injury on his chest.  Danny wraps his arms around Tucker too, probably thinking Tucker’s asking for comfort instead of offering it.  Well, maybe he’s doing a little of both.

It certainly helps him to fall asleep listening to Danny’s easy breathing and feeling the rise and fall of his chest.  He hopes it helps Danny too.

[gently-decaying-flowers]

Blake and Mateo’s Backstory

Summary: oh no they meet each other :0

Ch 1

Blake sat on his bed, notebook open to a painfully blank page. He never was good at explaining how he felt. A low groan seeped from his lips as he rested his face in his hands.

“Blake?” A small voice asked, just barely audible through the crack of his open door.

“What’s up Danny?” Blake asked, motioning for him to come inside. Danny hesitantly stepped in, his small body rocking back and forth on his heels.

“Mom said you could drive me to meet up with Mateo today…” he sounded guilty. Blake didn’t want to make him feel bad, even though he hated being pawned off to drive him places. Gas was too expensive for that.

“Alright,” Blake sighed. “What time did you two agree on?”

“12:30….” Danny replied quietly. Blake checked his watch, it was 12:25.

“Jesus Christ,” he mumbled. “Alright let’s go.”

The drive to the park was awkwardly silent. Danny moved in two years ago, when he was only seven. He and Blake never really clicked, which wasn’t too bad until Blake’s parents adopted him last year. Things were friendly, but Danny felt more like a distant cousin than a little brother.

“I’ll be here. Text me if you need anything.” Blake said, parking the car. Danny nodded and thanked him, bursting out of the car. Blake couldn’t help but feel a pang of jealousy as he watched Mateo scoop him into a hug.

Apparently, Mateo was Danny’s main support at the center they were at. Mateo’s eighteen, has his own apartment and he’s great with Danny. He’s tall, looks like he works out, and has enough confidence to dye his hair bright green. Blake doesn’t dislike him, but small things about Mateo just get in his nerves.

“Bright hair like that should be considered queerbait.” Blake snorted. He decided to scroll Pinterest and YouTube, purposefully not looking and watching Danny happier with Mateo. After about half an hour a loud bang on his window made him jump back to reality.

“What’s up Danny?” He asked, rolling down the window and willing his thumping heart to settle.

“Mateo wanted to meet you, will you come chill with us?” He gave Blake puppy-eyes like he’s never seen before.

“Yeah, hold on.” Blake eagerly got out of the car. Danny grabbed his hand and led him to the bench where Mateo sat. He very obviously sat up straighter upon seeing Blake approaching.

“Mateo!! I got him!!” Danny exclaimed, raising their clasped hands triumphantly in the air.

“Big brother, Mateo. Mateo, big brother.” Danny introduced. Blake waved awkwardly and Mateo nonchalantly nodded his head.

“Nice to meet you Blake.” Mateo said, but he didn’t sound too happy.

“You too.” Blake replied, careful to sound indifferent.

Danny sat between them, blabbering on about his favorite video game. Blake nodded politely, placing exclamation in the appropriate places. Mateo seemed to be doing the same considering he spend most of his time glaring at Blake.

“Oh shoot Dans, mom wants us home.” Blake said, slightly worried about his mom’s message. He thought he saw Mateo’s eyes darken, but it was hard to tell.

“Aww okay, bye Mattie!” Danny hugged him tightly.

“Bye Mateo, thanks for meeting me.” Blake said, waving. He had the strange feeling like he needed to get on his good side. Mateo nodded absentmindedly, causing Blake to roll his eyes while he walked off.

“It was really nice of you to meet Mateo.” Danny said once they were in the car.

“Yeah, it was nice to meet him.”

[agent-sushi-fbi]

Note: I’m loving this little back and forth I’m not gonna lie.

Note: not Jason’s latent ghost traits coming to the surface full force around Danny so he’s getting super protective now that he’s Jason’s.

~~~

Jason x Danny

Breakfast…had been eventful.

Never trust Fenton luck. Danny really thought this morning would be his first cute domestic memory of him and Jason together. But then he went and put his foot in his mouth, causing Jason’s emotions to run all over the place.

He isn’t quite sure what Jason was thinking after the conversation was dropped, but he knew the man was upset. Danny may have been a little scared when Jason started yelling, but he could hear the panic in Jason’s voice. It didn’t stop his initial panic, but Danny knew he fucked up and what he blurted out upset Jason.

Who was he kidding? Who wanted to hear that the guy they agreed to go out with had possibly died? Danny would have been a snotty mess and not left Jason’s side of the roles were reversed. He actually acted pretty realistically to Danny shrugging it off. But then he got agitated and fucked up again. Why did he tell Jason that people were hunting him down to kill him? Was he really just an idiot?

After a tense time waiting at the table for Jason to finish cooking, neither of them willing to talk while emotions were still running high, they sat down to eat. To be fair, Danny had calmed down considerably when Jason held him in his arms but he was still feeling a little off kilter and Jason probably felt the same way.

Nevertheless, the other man brought a beautifully made plate of food to the table for Danny and kissed the side of his head before moving to grab the rest of what he prepared. Danny felt his heart flutter as he watched Jason come back and sit across from him at the small dining table.

Watching him quietly as they ate, Danny marveled at the fact that he was even here. Jason still looked like he rolled out of bed despite acting more awake than he had been, but his tousled hair made Danny itch to run his hands through it. He wanted to twist his fingers between Jason’s and enjoy the normality of being with the guy he liked—before he reluctantly did the responsible thing of warning Jason so knew what he was getting into with Danny.

A small cough caught his attention and he stopped ogling Jason in his entirety and met the man’s eyes, crinkled at the corners like he was amused. Danny smiled shyly and rubbed the back of his neck.

“So,” Jason started, pushing away his plate and steepling his fingers together. “I want to start by apologizing for how I reacted earlier. I admit…it wasn’t the best way to ask you.”

Jason looked away from him and Danny felt his stomach fall. He was getting an apology (which was nice) but he had a feeling that he was going to hear something he wouldn’t like.

Shifting in his seat, Jason continued, “Danny, I admit I was hasty. I don’t know what you have been through or what you’re currently dealing with. In all fairness, it’s probably not something that I’ll be able to help you with even.”

Was this…a healthy conversation about feelings and respect? Hold up, for real?

Danny was about to crack a joke to lighten the mood a little, slightly uncomfortable with the attention on him but stopped with a gasp. Before he could have even opened his mouth, Jason had looked up at him through half lidded eyes filled with a promise of some kind. The raw sincerity he could feel from those teal pools make Danny’s heart race.

Jason held a hand out on the table, palm up and eyes watching Danny intently. His own flicked over to the large hand so close to knocking over the table salt. It was only a few inches from where his own sat and Danny wasn’t stupid enough to not realize what Jason wanted. But he was nervous.

“Danny,” Jason only said his name, but it was like a command. Danny felt he had to listen with the influx of emotions from that one word alone. Fear, uncertainty, resolution, anger, and love. There was so much love already that Danny felt his eyes tear up, holding back a little hiccuping sob as he slowly slid his hand into Jason’s. The pure relief that slumped the man’s shoulders at the action made Danny want to sob again.

Forcing his gaze away from their interlocked hands, he looked into Jason’s eyes again. Bright and clear, he could see the strength in them as easily as he saw the stubbornness set in the man’s jaw.

“Darling,” he started and oh, Danny didn’t really need his heart anymore. “I may not know what is happening in your life, and I am not going to pressure you into telling me before you’re ready. But I am telling you this right now, I am here and I’m not going anywhere.” Jason gave him a lopsided grin, a bit of the edge sliding off his features. “I’ve been waiting since the minute I first saw you to have the honor of being called yours. So just know that if whatever scares you catches up, you have me on your side and that’s the best weapon you could have.”

God the man sounded so fucking sure of himself it made Danny laugh, those little hiccups escaping finally with the small giggles he let out. Jason continued smiling at him and squeezed his hand, his thumb running back and forth over Danny’s knuckles.

Danny rubbed his eyes with the back of his free hand, giving Jason a wobbly smile of his own as he squeezed back. “So you’re going to be my knight in shining armor huh? You think you can take on my enemies?”

He was kind of joking, but a part of him really wanted to know Jason’s answer. He didn’t know what the GIW were like, how persistent and cruel they could be. Jason didn’t know how the slightest mistake could bring the annoying agents straight to Danny—and along with them, could possibly come the Fentons as well. Danny didn’t know how he would be able to cope if that future came to pass, thinking that if it did he was going to be alone and might have to go down fighting.

But now…he hoped that Jason would be by his side. Whether they fought or hid, lost or won the battle, Danny just didn’t want to be alone.

Jason took a few minutes before answering, keeping his eyes on the quietly sobbing Danny. When Danny stopped rubbing his eyes, Jason moved out of his seat but kept his hand tightly wrapped around Danny’s. He squatted on his haunches, scuttling close to Danny’s side to reach up and rub away the tears tracking his cheeks.

The action was so soft and kind that Danny purred a little from his core in response. The noise lightened the expression on Jason’s face a little more and he gave a small smile.

“Darling, I would be whatever you wanted me to be. I’ll be your knight or prince, I’ll cut down the dragons and face the bad guys for you. I would do anything to keep that beautiful smile on your face forever,” he told Danny quietly, his long arm reaching up to run a hand through Danny’s messy locks.

“I’ll be your knight if you’d like, only if so I know you will have someone at your side to fight with you.”

Note: I am having so much fun with this. My goal right now I think is to make myself cry. If I can cry? Then I know everyone should be sobbing.

Alcohol

A drunk Danny proposes and Jason has a short circuit.

Note: I don't know English, I wanted to share my idea and used Google Translate. Note 2: Warning for terrible writing skills and character characterization, at least I think you get the idea, I think. T-T

Jason x Danny …

Love is complicated. Danny had inevitably fallen for his handsome, cool neighbor: Jason, the problem? His neighbor dates the equally handsome and cool Red Hood.

His heart broke instantly. So to get over his broken heart Danny decides to drink the wine that Princess Dora sent him.

He drank too much, and apparently ghostly alcohol can do what human alcohol can't: get him drunk.

That's how a drunk Danny somehow got to a rooftop and found Red Hood. His love rival. Worst of all, Danny can't even object to Jason's decision to date the anti-hero, because Red Hood is Red Hood and Danny is Danny.

Oh…

Danny became depressed and now he is crying in front of the guard.

The guard panics. He tries to calm Danny down by saying nice things, but Danny cries more. Jason officially hates himself. How did he make his pretty, tender neighbor cry?

And suddenly his drunk Danny screams: "it's all your fault!" That's when Red Hood freezes. Exactly what is his fault?

Danny continues: "You-You…he loves you! Silly, silly, why did he have to like you? I love him more." Oh, that's the problem. His Danny is in love with a bastard, and said bastard is apparently in love with Red Hood.

He absolutely doesn't share the same feeling, especially if Danny is crying for him. He briefly wonders if it would be right to hit the guy Danny likes.

"Jason loves you! You should say those words to him" Excuse me, what did you say? "Silly"

Oh, Jason Todd?

"Yes!" He seems to have spoken out loud, because his pretty neighbor responds with a broken voice.

Ha.

Jason has a short circuit. He can't process this; The reason why his neighbor didn't pay attention to his flirting was because he thought he already had a partner. That he (Jason) was dating him (Red Hood)

He should have stopped that rumor from the beginning, so this misunderstanding wouldn't have wreaked havoc on his love life. On the other hand, seeing his adorable neighbor looking like a drunk makes Jason melt.

"Do you think I'm dating…Jason?" His voice is serious, although it is probably not noticeable through the filter of the mask.

Danny nods. "Is a lie." He is amused when he sees the surprise in Danny's eyes, this drunk is adorable. "Just like you, I already have someone I like."

"So you're not dating Jason?" Oh boy. "Can I go out with him? Can I tell him that I like him?"

Jason laughs internally, and says, "You should do it." And he must return to his apartment soon, after all, he will soon receive an important declaration of love.

This is the best day of his life.

Unfortunately his statement won't come tonight, because Danny trips and falls to the ground. Apparently unconscious.

Jason sighs. He will have to wait until tomorrow, while he takes care of picking up his (now) cute boyfriend on his back. That's when he hears him murmur.

"Jason, marry me…"

!!!!!!

"Hahaha, ask me on a date first." He answers her, although he knows that his boyfriend is already in the world of dreams.

He absolutely won't let Danny forget this.

…

I repeat: I don't know English, I wanted to share my idea and used Google Translate.

[lucifer-is-a-bag-of-dicks]

Not Enough

has anyone else just wanted Danny to go completely fucking feral at Dash? anyone?

yeah me too

this is some truly self-indulgent shit y'all

"Hey Fenton!"

Danny slammed his locker shut, sighing as Dash clapped him roughly on the shoulder.

"I'm throwin' a huge ass Halloween party this weekend, ghosts are all about Halloween right? You should totally come!"

It wasn't the first party Danny had been invited to since being outed as Phantom, but somehow Dash didn't seem to get the hint that he wasn't even remotely interested.

"No." Danny snapped, he threw his bag over his shoulder and turned his back on Dash, walking away without another word.

"What's your problem?"

Danny stopped, turning back around with a face of utter disdain.

"Excuse me?"

"I've been trying to be nice, but all you do is just brush me off! Like you can't even pretend to be busy or something?"

Danny stared, mouth halfway open as he tried to find the words to respond.

"Are you actually serious?" he finally choked out, almost too bewildered to be angry.

Almost.

"You're not still mad about all that stuff from before right?" Dash asked. "Like, I don't even do that shit anymore, it's over."

"Is it?" Danny's eyes flashed brightly and Dash took a half step back as the air went cold. "Because I'm pretty sure it was just yesterday that I pulled Mikey out of his locker."

"Well, yeah but that was Mikey." Dash laughed. "C'mon man, I wouldn't do that to you. We're totally cool now, so why you gotta keep blowing me off? You talk to Kwan like it's not big deal, and he used to wail on you all the time!"

Danny took a deep, slow breath, then another.

"Have you considered that maybe it's because I don't like you?" Danny said through gritted teeth.

Dash huffed, shoving his hands into his pockets and staring at the ground.

"Look, I get it, I was a jerk, but it's over! I'm actually trying to be nice, now you're the one being an asshole."

Danny looked as though he'd been slapped.

"You're such a fucking idiot Dash." Said Danny, his voice trembling with barely restrained rage. "You can't just treat someone like shit every single day for two years and then expect them to get over it because you invited them to a few parties."

"Then how come Kwan gets to hang out with you?" Dash could feel his face heating up. "You're just gonna let him off the hook? That's not fair!"

"HE APOLOGISED!"

In one thunderous moment, every locker in the hallway slammed open, sending papers and books flying across the floor. The few students still packing up their things got the fuck out of dodge, whether this was a ghost thing or a Fenton thing (was there even a difference at this point?) they wanted no part of it.

Dash couldn't move, his feet felt heavy, he wasn't entirely sure if Danny had done something to him with his ghost powers, or if he was just afraid.

Because he was certainly afraid.

Even after everyone found out, Danny still didn't use his powers at school unless it was a ghost emergency. He didn't use them for pranks, didn't use them to get even, didn't even use them to show off.

But he was sure as hell using them now, and Dash suddenly realised why he was always holding himself back.

He was terrifying.

Danny took a few steps forward, stopping barely an arm's length away from where Dash was rooted to the spot, trembling.

"Kwan apologised to me." He said, quietly this time. "He apologised to my friends, he even apologised to some other kids, and when I told him that I wasn't ready to forgive him, he accepted that and left me alone until I was ready to talk to him again."

Dash wanted to speak, but he couldn't seem to make his brain form the words he needed, it was too busy buzzing with danger run danger get out run run RUN.

"You made every single day of my life miserable for two whole fucking years, and that isn't even counting the bullshit you pulled in middle school. How do you feel right now Dash? Does it scare you to be around me? Does it scare you to be at the mercy of someone that you know damn well can hurt you?" Danny leant in, grabbing a fistful of letterman jacket. "I hope it does, because now maybe you'll have an idea what it was like for me going to school every fucking day knowing that you would be there, ready and waiting to hurt me. Every single FUCKING day."

Dash found himself being thrown backwards, his feet finally able to move again as he caught himself.

"I'm s-sor-sorry." he mumbled, his lips felt numb and tingly and his head swam with panic as he struggled to get the words out. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry."

"Are you?" Danny's voice cracked, his face wasn't twisted in rage anymore, his eyes were blue once again, and shining with tears. "Are you really sorry for hurting me? Or are you just sorry that the guy you were beating the shit out of turned out to be Phantom?"

"I didn't... I didn't know." Dash gasped out, he could barely hear his own words, all he could hear was his own heart beating loudly in his ears as he struggled to draw in breath. "I didn't know it was like that, I just thought-"

Thought what? What had he thought? That he wasn't really hurting anyone? That it wasn't that big a deal?

No, he hadn't thought that, because he hadn't thought at all.

"And you're gonna stand here and tell me I'm an asshole." Danny was almost sobbing as he raggedly spat out each word. "Because I won't forgive you for something you never even apologised for. This is the first time you even acknowledged that you were an absolute jerk to me, and you followed it up by demanding that I just get over it."

Dash stared down at the floor, it sounded terrible when Danny put it like that.

"I wasn't... demanding anything." he said, he was embarrassed by how whiny he sounded. "I was just trying to make it up to you, I was trying, I just thought... it's not fair that I can't have second chance. I was trying so hard and all I wanted was a second chance-"

"I DON'T CARE." Danny's eyes were screwed up tight, but it didn't stop the tears of fury from pouring down his cheeks, his voice so shredded with pain it was barely recognisable. "I DON'T CARE ABOUT YOU. I DON'T CARE ABOUT WHAT YOU WANT. I DON'T OWE YOU A SECOND CHANCE. I DON'T OWE YOU ANYTHING. YOU FUCKED ME UP AND YOU. CAN'T. FIX IT."

Dash didn't know what to do. Danny was openly sobbing, his breaths came out in grunts as he couldn't hold the rage and misery back.

He was still standing within arm's reach, Dash cautiously put out a hand, to comfort him? He wasn't sure, but he barely brushed Danny's shoulder before Dash found himself spinning violently and his cheekbone exploded with sudden pain as he hit the floor. Cold hands drew away from him roughly.

"DON'T TOUCH ME." Danny screamed. "DON'T YOU EVER FUCKING TOUCH ME EVER AGAIN."

Dash watched as Danny grabbed his backpack and his footsteps disappeared down the hall.

It was over, just like that it was over.

Dash sat up and touched his face, he wasn't bleeding but he knew it would bruise pretty bad. It hurt, he would be squinting through one eye for a few days.

Danny could have done this to him at any time, he could have done it to him every day if he wanted, and maybe he would, now that he'd done it once.

The thought made Dash feel cold as dread pooled in his stomach.

The next day Dash told people he'd gotten his black eye from playing football, his team knew it wasn't true, but they didn't ask. He kept his eye out for Danny, wondering if he would pop up invisibly and knock him off his feet, or drag him through the floor, or hit him when nobody was looking.

He clung to Kwan's side all day, afraid to be alone.

Phantom could be anywhere, he could get him anywhere, if he wanted to hurt Dash nobody would be able to stop him.

Nobody had been able to stop Dash, and he didn't even have superpowers.

But in the end, nothing happened.

Dash went through the day untouched. Danny didn't even look his way. Not once. He just acted like yesterday never happened.

But it did happen, Dash still had the bruise on his cheek, and the terror set deep in his bones.

In the following days, weeks, months, Danny still never touched him, never looked at him, never talked to him. Dash realised that Danny probably wasn't going to do anything else after all, that maybe he hadn't even meant to hurt him in the first place.

He was a hero after all, he protected people, even people he didn't like. The only time he had ever come into contact with Dash again was to haul him out of the way of a ghost, and he did so with the same care as he would with anyone else.

Danny wasn't like him, he didn't gloat about hurting him, he didn't revel in the fact that Dash was scared of him. He just went about his day, acting for all the world like Dash didn't even exist.

Dash never gave him a true apology, it was clear Danny didn't want one, it was far too late for that.

It left Dash with a sick feeling of unfulfillment. He understood now what Danny had been going through, the pain, the terror, he wanted Danny to know that he was truly sorry, that he really had changed this time.

But he couldn't, because forcing an unwanted apology on him would just make Dash the asshole all over again, he was trying to steal a forgiveness that he could never have.

So he had to find his closure somewhere else.

He stopped picking on Mikey, and Nathan, and all of the other nerds he frequently hassled. He even tried apologising to them, some forgave him, others didn't, and he had to be okay with that. He struggled not to lash out, it still felt unfair, the world had always told him that you were supposed to forgive people when they apologised. It always happened that way on tv, in the cartoons he grew up watching. The mean kid would apologise, the other kids would forgive him, and they would all become friends.

He was realising that the real world was a whole lot more complicated than that, he didn't earn forgiveness just because apologising was hard, he was learning fast that he didn't earn any brownie points for taking responsibility for his actions. He was just doing what any decent person should.

It took him a while to come to terms with that, to stop being angry at people for not letting him make it up to them. For not letting him prove that he had changed.

All it took was to occasionally pass by Danny in the hallways for him to cool his jets and think more clearly. To remind him that he was the bad guy, he was the one who hurt people, that his victims did not owe him anything.

In his last year of school, he had found himself watching the juniors below him falling into the same behaviours, the same struggle for power and control. Pushing other kids around without so much as sparing a thought to how it made them feel.

After a lengthy chat with Mr Lancer, Dash was given permission to pull out younger students from detention one day a week. He would talk to them, ask about their lives, ask about their feelings. He would ask why they lashed out, why they thought it was okay to treat people that way. Most of them didn't have an answer, or simply refused to give one, but he would push, he wouldn't let them hide in ignorance like he did.

Some of them did feel guilt for the way they treated people, and they only needed someone they could talk to who could understand what they were going through, so they wouldn't take it out on whoever was around at the time.

Others would take more effort, they need a far stronger push in the right direction, they were defensive and combative, selfish and unapologetic.

Dash had been one of those kids, he knew they would be hard work, but he did his best. He couldn't help all of them, some were simply unwilling to change.

So he contacted the school-board, he pushed for better protection for students, more programs to help troubled kids, he volunteered to keep running his own counselling groups even after he graduated.

It still never felt like enough.

After graduation he turned down his favoured college to attend one closer to home so he could continue his volunteer work. He joined petitions and rallies for change across entire school districts, he spoke at other schools' anti-bullying campaigns. He'd attended enough of them in his own childhood that he knew they did next to nothing, but it gave him the opportunity to reach out to kids for one on one support.

He found more volunteers for his counselling groups, he helped people start them up in other local schools. It was a lot of work, especially when he was also juggling his college studies. He was taking a major in psychology, it was brutal, Dash had never been good at studying, but he'd decided that this was what he needed to do, this was important to him.

It still wasn't enough.

It would come at him in the night, as soon as he laid his head down on his pillow. He would see the faces of all the kids he hurt, it felt so much worse the older he got, they just looked younger and younger every time the memories came back to plague him.

He had beat the shit out of children. Kids who were the same age as the students he now counselled. He beat them until they were bloody or bruised, he shoved them into lockers, pulled pranks that humiliated them in front of the whole school, and he had laughed.

He'd laughed at their pain.

When the guilt weighed him down, he would begin searching for new programs to volunteer for, new petitions or rallies to get behind, always finding another way to help protect kids like Danny from kids like him.

And to protect kids like him from doing things that would one day haunt them.

He had spread himself thin across every school in the district, barely keeping afloat at college, but it wasn't enough.

It was never enough.

Kids still slipped through the cracks, schools were still too lenient, there were too many kids, not enough volunteers.

Casper High was holding another anti-bullying assembly. It had been a few years since Dash had attended one at his old school. This year they had excitedly announced that they'd even secured an appearance from Phantom himself.

Dash's blood ran cold, his hands shook as he went over his notes, he was slated to do his speech alongside Phantom's, they would be sharing the stage for a solid 75 minutes, barely a few feet from one another.

When Danny showed up he was already in Phantom form, Dash spotted him discussing emergency exit plans with one of the organisers in the event of a ghost attack.

He was so different from when they were in school.

He was tall, and broad, he stood with confidence and had a good natured charm to him. He was a hero, he was strong, he was brave. He could fight monsters ten times his size with a smirk and a witty one liner. He could take on anything, he wasn't afraid of anything.

He was a kid, running down a hallway, screaming words that still pierced through Dash's mind every time he saw the hero's face.

"DON'T TOUCH ME."

Dash's hands clenched around his notes, shaking so violently that they barely even looked like words.

"DON'T YOU EVER FUCKING TOUCH ME EVER AGAIN."

"Dash?"

A deep voice cut through the chaos in Dash's mind as cold hands closed over his tremblings ones.

"It's good to see you again."

Phantom was smiling at him, his hands still closed around Dash's.

"Good... good to see you too." Dash mumbled, not able to meet the man's eyes.

Phantom paused before releasing Dash's hands.

"I've heard all about your work." Phantom grinned as Dash finally looked up and met his eyes.

"Yeah." he said, and then before his mind could catch up with his mouth, he blurted out, "I'm sorry, for everything."

Phantom's eyebrows rose for a moment, before he gave a gentle smile and clapped a hand on Dash's shoulder.

"I know." he said warmly. "Thank you."

They gave their speeches, Dash had told his story many times before, the victim that he'd pushed to breaking point, the boy whose words drove the change that made him the man he had become.

For the first time ever, that boy was listening.

After the assembly had packed up and the volunteers were heading home, it was Danny Fenton who approached Dash and asked if he wanted to go grab a beer together.

Dash thought it would be rather awkward, but Danny had plenty of experience socialising with the public, awkwardness slid right off him, and soon enough Dash found himself laughing alongside Danny as he told a story about the new misadventures of the Box Ghost.

He returned to his dorm that night, head still swimming from one too many beers, and he had the best sleep of his life.

He pulled back on some of his volunteer work, hunting for new people to take his place as he focused on college. He was falling far behind, but he would work hard to make his way back. As a volunteer he could only do so much, but with the right education and training, he could do so much more.

The guilt still haunted him, every so often when the pressure and the stress weighed heavy, it would creep back into his mind. It would probably never go away, not entirely, but at least now he had his closure.

Finally, it was enough.

[dannythedog]

hc idea : the boys finding out not of your parents have passed away a few years ago

warnings: mentions of death, grieving

Jake: Jake has always been the quiet type. When he finally hears about your parents, his first reaction is silence. It's not uncomfortable or awkward, it's the kind of silence that let's you know he'll listen if you need it. Jake would hold you as you cried your heart out and gripped his shirt until it nearly rips, only letting go when your tears are dried and you're ready to talk.

Josh: Josh would immediately wrap you up in his arms, giving you all of the attention and positive affirmations your little heart could take. "You're so strong," he'd whisper. "So strong and brave and absolutely loved." He'd remind you that he will always be there for you if some days are harder than others, and that he will always understanding with your emotions.

Sam: His heart would crack right in half for you. Sam would absolutely despise seeing you upset, that's why he'd always be making a fool of himself trying to get a smile out of you. He'd probably make some ill-timed jokes, but he only has the best intentions. Later on you come to the kitchen to find he made your favorite comfort meal. "I know it's not much, but I'm really sorry for your loss. I hope this can make your day at least a little better."

Danny: If you're at an okay place with it mentally, he'd ask to see photos of your parents. He'd listen quietly while you described the background story to every photo and hold you if it got to be too much. "Thank you for sharing those with me. If it's okay with you, I'd like to meet them next time you visit." Danny would sit right down with you when you did decide to go and introduce himself, talking on and on about how they have such a lovely child and how much he loves you.

[x-lipstickstain-x]

Comfort in the Dark

Daniel/Lando Fluff

Daniel squinted at the bright screen of his phone when heard a noise, the time displayed was 1:03am and he was now certain someone was at the door as the knocking continued. It was evidently the sound that had brought his peaceful sleep to a pause. Although he was slightly annoyed by being woken, he knew no one would be at his door at this time without a good reason, which made him a little uneasy. 

With a bathrobe now hugging over his half naked body, he pulled the door open. The frustration built up when he couldn’t locate the culprit, he leaned out of the door, spotting a familiar mop of curls heading away down the corridor. 

“What the fuck man?” Daniel huffed, startling his teammate who clearly hadn’t heard the door opening, his eyes wide at the sound of Daniel’s voice. “Playing knock and run at 1am?” 

Lando winced, strolling back to where he was just a few seconds before, disturbing the Aussie’s sleep. “Sorry I just thought you might be awake, but then you weren’t opening so I just-,”. He continued rambling on an explanation, avoiding eye contact.

“Well I am awake now cause you’re fucking around, mate go to bed we have a race tomorrow.” 

“I wasn’t-,” Lando began, but let out an exhausted sigh, his head shaking. “Nevermind, see you tomorrow Danny.” His tone was so fragile, as if his voice threatened to crack any moment which didn’t go unnoticed by Daniel, just like the way Lando’s fingers were almost pulling apart the sleeves of the Quadrant hoodie he was wearing. 

He had already turned back to walk away again when Daniel softened, his anger replaced by concern and suddenly feeling wide awake. “Wait, are you okay?” At his question, Lando stopped in his tracks with his shoulders slumping even further than before. Slowly turning to face Dan, his head gently shook from side to side in a silent response. That’s all Daniel needed before pushing the door to his room open further and stepping to the side to let Lando in. 

It actually wasn’t the first time Lando had come to him looking as if he was a hug away from bursting into tears. They got on well as friends and teammates, perhaps they weren’t that close off track, though this didn’t stop them from comforting one another when it was necessary. 

It started when Daniel was missing out on Q3 and then not finishing in points for a few races in a row, he felt awful, unable to pinpoint what was going on with him. Lando came to see him that time and instead of the usual ‘I’ll help you with more data if you need it’, he suggested they could hang out, what he didn’t quite expect was for Daniel to just hug him tightly. Lando felt a little awkward, he playfully commented how he could have just asked for cuddles if he needed them. He took him up on that offer the same evening. They didn’t speak about it after. 

The second time it happened, it was after Lando had crashed during qualifying, whenever he closed his eyes to sleep that night it felt like he was about to be thrown around in the car again and he wanted nothing more than to be held. Dan’s room was right beside his, he didn’t know Daniel had stayed up that night, wanting to check up on Lando himself though not quite building the courage to do so, he was relieved when Lando came to him. Once again, they didn’t speak about it after.

The difference between the situations was that both of these were clearly the other needing comfort after a bad experience during the sessions. Though, today Lando had qualified on pole position, his first one in formula 1, so why the hell was he sulking in Dan’s room at this time?

He sat down on his bed, patiently waiting for Lando to tell him what was on his mind. He watched him as he stood in the middle of the room, clearly not sure what to do with himself, tugging the sleeves of his hoodie over his nervous hands then placing them over his face before blurting out. “I’m scared.”

Daniel frowned. “Of?” 

“Of fucking up in the race, fucking up the start, making a mistake, crashing, disappointing the whole team.” He paused to take a breath, his teammate mentally begging him not to continue the list. “What if this is my only chance to win and I fuck it up. It’s all I can think about, Danny.” 

The way he said his name sounded like a beg, a cry to help him stop the thoughts from spiraling. Daniel raised to his feet, stepping closer and using the pocket of his hoodie to draw his smaller frame into his embrace, Lando immediately responded by wrapping his arms around Dan’s waist, his face nuzzling into his chest. Daniel softly massaged out the tension built up in the muscle between his neck and shoulder, a low hum escaping his lips in response to the touch. 

Daniel pulled back once Lando’s breathing had returned to a somewhat calmer pace. “Come on, let’s get you to bed.” He helped him get out of his hoodie before slipping out of the robe himself and both of them settling into the bed comfortably. Surprisingly, Lando didn’t turn away with his back to Daniel like he had done the previous nights they met. Dan figured it was because he felt a little embarrassed about being vulnerable and being cuddled by him, but this time he was facing Dan with his sparkly eyes on him. 

Lando’s eyes closed for a brief moment as Dan’s arm wrapped around him, his fingers brushing through the curls on the back of his head, when his eyes opened their gaze met, sending shivers down Lando’s back. Knowing he had about half a second before Lando would begin to overthink the way his body just reacted, Daniel spoke up. “You know you’ve been amazing all season, you’re capable of getting this win.” Lando winced - even Daniel had high expectations of him, he almost rolled away from him, but Daniel held him still. “But even if you don’t, it’s okay because this is just one opportunity out of many… You’re getting better and better with experience, I’m sure one day getting on pole’s will be a normal thing for you.” 

Lando still seemed unconvinced, a sigh leaving his lips. “You really think I can do this?”

Daniel chuckled, “Of course you can.” There wasn’t the slightest hint of hesitation. “If not tomorrow, then many times in the near future.”

The reassurance was met with a small upwards tug of Lando’s lips, but not quite yet forming a smile. He leaned into Daniel’s fingers which were currently massaging his scalp. He allowed himself to close his eyes and focus on the soothing sensation mixed with Dan’s further whispers of comfort. 

At one point Daniel believed Lando was asleep as he hadn’t spoken or moved a lot, he noticed how long he had been staring at him so he forced himself to reach for the lamp and switch off the light. He absentmindedly moved closer to Lando, his lips pressing to his forehead and he became very aware of what he’s done when Lando stiffened beside him, his eyes now open and very much showing he hadn’t been asleep just yet. Daniel felt his own breath get caught in his chest, he didn’t mean to scare him, now he’s fucked it completely and clearly overstepped some sort of boundary. He moved back, ready to apologise when he saw a sleepy smile slowly form on Lando’s face, the light coming through the gaps in the window curtains allowing him to thankfully distinguish it in the dark. Lando, no longer tense, pressed himself further into Daniel, the Aussie relieved and left with a flutter in his stomach when Lando found his hand and entwined their fingers, whispering a goodnight.

A slam of the door made Daniel’s eyes snap open, letting out a string of curse words when he realised it was Lando who was no longer in the room and apparently wasn’t able to close the door quietly like a normal human being. It was already bright outside so he reached out for his phone to check how long he had left before his alarm would ring. When grabbing the device his hand bumped into something warm on the nightstand that he knew previously wasn’t there, making him slowly sit up to see what it was.

He found a takeaway cup standing on the side, when lifting it closer, the smell of coffee finally reached him, already filling his chest with warmth and switching his mood when he realised how it got there. ‘Thank you.’ Was written on the cardboard with a little love heart underneath, when he turned the cup the other side displayed ‘Let’s get ‘em’ written with the same black marker. 

He stared at the closed door with a fond smile on his face.

In the paddock Daniel couldn’t help but steal glances at Lando to make sure he was doing okay, he was evidently still nervous and Daniel had the urge to walk over to him and hug him. That's why when he had a few minutes spare with still some time before the race due to start and he spotted Lando being left alone in his drivers room, he went over to him. As soon as the door closed behind him and Lando realised who had entered, he walked right over to him, his arms wrapping around his older teammate instantly. Dan whispered a small “hi” before his hand found its way into his hair, massaging his scalp the same way he did last night. 

Lando pulled back to look into his eyes, “Can you do it again?” Daniel frowned at his request, confused if he was referring to him massaging his scalp which he was still doing anyway. 

“Kiss my forehead.” Lando whispered. “You know, like for good luck.” He nervously added, waiting for Dan’s reaction. 

Meanwhile Daniel felt his heart almost leap out his chest with affection. He smiled, pressing his lips to Lando’s forehead and letting them linger for a moment before moving to peck the tip of his nose and carrying on down to his lips. Daniel’s lips hovered over Lando’s letting him pull back if he wanted to, but instead Lando leaned in, capturing his lips in a kiss. 

Maybe this time they’ll speak about it.

[loop-hole-319]

Goodbye little Elk

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pYzWmKlZtrU&ab_channel=nova60

At first glance this panicked creature may look like a fully grown Cervitaur of a Caribou, and it may appear that he has an antler deformity causing his antlers droop down to the sides of his head. But this is not the case, this is in fact this is an adolescent Irish Elk Cervitaur with a scientific name of ‘Megaloceros giganteus Elaphocentaur’. His future fossil records suggest that he is around the age of 15 to 16, and that he lived approximately 8000 years ago. This specific individual also appears to have some form of hyperpigmentation disorder on his lower half, causing the normally brown fur of the species to appear black. This young bull has been separated from his herd and has been searching for it for the last several hours. But little does he know his search is about to come to an end in the worst way possible.

Danny was well aware that he was a dumbass, his sister would constantly remind him of this fact. Of course it was all in good fun.   “MOOOHEEEEEUHHMmmm” He called out to his mother knowing that his shrill cry out to her would carry for miles. While keeping an even paced trot, he scanned the foggy horizon of the chilly morning dew fields for her and his sister. Tears began threatening formation, he had at this all night and there hadn't even been a response call back. His self-hug tightened in on himself as he slowed to a stop, the tidal wave of emotions and realizations that he had been holding back we're starting to crack the dam.

 The tears that now fell freely down his face were much warmer than the chilly air, a dry heave came up through his throat as the conclusion that he had been ignoring for the last several hours finally reared it's ugly head. He was alone, completely and utterly alone. He had no idea where his herd was and they had no idea were he was. For all they new he could be being eaten by a saber tooth right now. He knows how dangerous it is to stray from the heard, his antlers aren't even two feet long yet so why the hell did he wander.  

His ears shot back on a swivel point and he froze as he was pulled back into reality, he had heard something out there. Slowly he turned himself around to point in the direction of the sound and flicked his ears forward straining them to pick up the smallest sounds. There out in fog was a small movement. 

Danny took a step forward leaning his human body forward and subconsciously extending his opposite back leg out to balance his already tremendous weight. Danny squinted and placed his hand above his eyes to block out what ever early morning rays were able to creep through the overcast sky. He sat there staring out over the land for a moment or two try to see if he could spot what ever was out there. 

The wind picked up and blew in his direction just as he was beginning to abandon his side search and a familiar sent slammed into him. His eyes widened in recognition and his ears dropped down to the side of his head. He could practically hear his own heart begin to palpitate in his chest. “No, no no no no”  A loud howl erupted a good ways away the source of it being shrouded by the fog. A pack of dire wolves was approaching him. 

 Danny stumbled backwards away from the smell as he began to hyperventilate, he stumbled over his own four feet as he turned around to flee. The thunderous sound of his hooves slamming into the dampened dirt cut through the other wise quiet and serene landscape. The beat of his hooves hitting the floor alongside his heavy breaths that were laced with fear created a harmonious rhythm that was only interrupted with splashing as he ran through what he believed to be a shallow pool from the other days rain. 

Danny’s pace was slowed significantly once he entered the pool, he internally cursed himself for not just going around the shallow puddle. Although the puddle was much shallower than he originally believed it to be and the ground was much softer in the dirt in the surrounding area. Perhaps the water pulled above it combined with how hot it was the day before had made the ground soggier.

Danny’s heart felt like he had just jumped from a cliff with realization.

A Tar pit.

He was stuck in a tar pit.        “OHH GOD” he yelled out. “SHIT” He leaned his upper half forwards with one of his front hooves in an attempt to move himself out of the tar. He may have succeeded if he pulled up out of the tar and then moved it forward, but fear clouded his judgment and the offset caused him to tilt forward and land sternum first into the tar. Danny lay on his human stomach and his deer rear facing skyward, his arms spread out in front of him in an attempt to keep his head off of the tar. He could feel his back hooves slowly sliding away from him, in a split second before another wave panic struck him, he wondered if his legs would slide out from under him or if they would buckle under his weight first.

His question was answered for him as a squelching sound from his hooves sliding through the tar reached his fuzzy ears. And in the moment that his hindquarters landed on the tar he attempted to push himself up with his front legs, only to feel them sink deeper into the pit.  He cried out in shock as this happened, although the new position removed some pressure off his neck, which not only had to hold up his head but as well as his antlers that reached a little over 5 feet from tip to tip. And he knew as soon as he put his head down the underside of his antlers would become stuck in the tar, if that were to happen it would become impossible to remove his head and seeing that in this position, he was barely able to hold his head up let alone put out of the sticky oil what spell disaster for his already doomed self.

Danny breathed in deeply in an attempt to calm himself before taking a moment to collect himself to pull all of the emotion that he had been feeling throughout the day to place it on a back burner. His sister had always told him that if he got himself into danger, he needed to be able to think clearly. So he took another deep shaky breath before starting the grounding exercise she had taught him to do. So he sat there in tar quietly feeling the sticky tar cover his under belly, the tar itself smelt like shit. It also felt like shit in his fur. 

The smell reminded him of the onetime his sister dared him to stomp on an abandoned terror bird nest. He felt warm rays of the sun as they begin to peek through the clouds is it ascended into the sky. Feeling calm enough he decided to attempt his stand once again, the sense of calm but he had managed was quickly overshadowed by fear and dread as sudden shift in weight began to pull him further into the pit of crude oil.

 He began to panic and pulled his top half off of tar a sudden boost in strength given to him bye fear, that new weight combined with his panicked flailing pulled his legs even further under. “MOOOHEEEEEAAAAAEEEEUUUHHMmmmmmm” He struggled and cried out again for his mother, panic filling his voice.     He cried out for her again and again only stopping when the winds sudden change in direction reminded him that he was not alone.  

His ears flipped back and his eyes widened at the sound of large paw pads slamming against the earth. At this point his level of panic had reached its Max and he could do nothing but watch as the dire wolves walk carefully around the edges of the puddle searching for the piece of land that had the shortest distance to him. one of the younger possibly less experienced wolves paced impatiently as its elders searched for a good entrance point.

 Several of the rougher looking wolves had already decided that they were to wait until he tire or pass out for exhaustion, they let him know this by going and laying under some underbrush nearby not once taking their eyes off him. The majority of the wolves however, continued to sniff along the edges of the bank gauging the distance between himself and the edges of solid ground. The younger impatient wolf disappeared behind him out of Danny’s line of sight.

Then suddenly Danny feels a great force impact him from behind, the wolf has jumped onto his back. The sudden force from the impact sends his body down several inches more into the tar and the wolf begins to scratch and bite at his human back. Danny cries out in pain and through his hands over his head reaching desperately for the wolf. Danny in an attempt to reach back further he bends his upper half backwards and successfully manages to grab the wolf by its scruff. feeling the matted fur in between his fingers Danny throws himself forward, sending the wolf sailing overhead landing upside down in the tar. The force of the impact since the wolf down several inches into the thick oil and begins to whimper loudly as it realizes that it's back and entire face have been submerged in the tar. The force of him throwing the wolf over his head and into the tar cast himself to be slammed into the viscous black liquid and now he lays on his stomach his arms spread out in front of him to keep his head from landing in the tar.

It has been several hours since he has sent the wolf flying overhead, since then the wolf has stopped moving completely. The sun is now completely overhead it's heat evaporated bear entirety of the puddle that hid the tar pit from view. Danny lay miserably in the slowly heating tar as it radiated heat and bubbles slowly rising to the surface popped around him at random.

 His throat was sore form calling out to his mother and he was beginning to feel lightheaded from the intense heat and the amount of water that he had lost and crying. One of the elder wolves stood up and began to slowly make its way over to the edge of the solid ground. Danny let out a single self-pity filled chuckle as he eyed the wolf. his neck and arms felt as if they were on fire he had never needed to hold up is heavy head like this for so long.

 His arms had begun to tremble a while ago and he could feel the muscles giving out underneath him. And just like that his arms buckled from the weight of his own antlers, he wondered to himself how much longer would he have lasted if he did not have them. And with a resounding splat he landed in to the tar, he miraculously managed to keep his chin above the tar as it fell. Danny tilted his head to the side and allowed his antler to touch the tar, he was not going to be getting up from this anyways, so it didn't matter now. His eyes slid shut as he began to pass out from exhaustion the only sound now was of the wolves getting ready to feast on him.

[caravelmp3]

❛  H O N E Y ❜ CHAPTER EIGHT: FALLING DEEPLY, DEEPLY IN LOVE

1970s au ✫ josh kiszka x fem!oc ✫ word count: 6.4k

notes on this chapter: mentions of sex and drinking and a lot of fluff !!!! hope you enjoyyyy x 

chapter index ✫ fic tag ✫ playlist

It was 7:30 a.m. in Manhattan. For the city that doesn’t sleep, the traffic was relatively quiet, the bar stragglers had turned in hours ago. The morning sun spilled between the skyscrapers and through the slatted wooden blinds of the top floor of the Gramercy onto the shiny printed photos spread across red oak floors.

Hanna sat on the edge of the rug on the floor of the living room. The sleeves of her plush robe hung over her hands while she plucked photos from the package on her thigh, placing them down one by one, creating a physical collage of memories from the last few weeks before her eyes.

She giggled quietly as she laid a photo of Sam and Danny down on the floor - they were both stuck in the kids mechanical rides outside of a diner in the south. It was placed next to a group photo of them on the bus outside of Raleigh, taken by Max. They were all in the aisle of the bus, leaning on each other, smiling or making funny faces or grinning, and it made Hanna’s heart grow two sizes in her chest.

Sitting back and wrapping her arms around her knees, she looked at the photos and smiled.

The last two weeks simultaneously felt like two days but also like two months. Every long night the bus with cracking joints and long stretches in the mornings made it feel like two months, but every dinner with nonstop talking and every night full of laughter made it feel like it was passing in the blink of an eye. She felt her heart sink in her chest while she smiled.

It was a bittersweet feeling to know that you would miss a moment while still living in it.

Hearing the knob of the bathroom door creak and feet pad on the hardwood, Hanna raised her head, looking up through the divide of the room to see Josh. He walked out of the bathroom, his pants slung on his hips but still unbuttoned and his belt unbuckled, a towel around his shoulders while he ran it over his hair.

When she looked at him she was much more aware of the ache in between her legs, the rawness of her lips. He was the culprit.

Hanna was the first to awake at signs of dawn, sliding out of bed to take her own shower before Josh woke up. They exchanged gentle whispers in the dark, him telling her good morning, her telling him he could take a shower if he wanted while she made them coffee in the living room. And he sleepily nodded before yawning and stepping into the bathroom.

He was much more awake when he walked out - fresh and clean, the smells and sins of the previous night washed down the drain. Dropping the towel at the end of the bed, he walked into the living area, meeting Hanna’s outstretched hand where she held him a cup of coffee in a small throw-away cup she found in the kitchenette.

Josh sank onto the edge of the sofa, taking a sip from the cup before looking at the glossy photos on the floor. There were what looked like hundreds of them stretched to the doors in the center of the room - some of him, some of the others, some of herself and Phoebe. His eyes landed on a photo of himself from Baltimore, zoomed in just slightly, and he could see the black heart drawn on his hand while he held onto the microphone stand. He smiled, taking another sip of the coffee.

Hanna looked across the room, at the window in the bedroom that offered a view of the skyscrapers around them, and she relaxed. She liked existing in the same room as Josh. Even if it was half-dressed, in silence in the early morning, she liked being with him. It offered a sense of relaxation in an otherwise empty room.

“You guys have a photoshoot today, yeah?” She asked, glancing over her shoulder at him while he sat behind on the sofa.

“Yeah, Ken and Russ got us a shoot around lunchtime somewhere at the Plaza.” He tried to remember whatever Russ last told them during the briefing, but it all felt like a blur in comparison to last night. He yawned, rubbing his eye with the heel of his palm before slurring out, “wha‘bout you?”

Hanna reached across the floor for her own coffee cup and she took a short swig. “Pheebs and I are getting breakfast this morning. She wanted to start a tradition and for some reason, that’s what she chose.”

“Damn,” Josh winced and she laughed lightly, nodding in agreement, “you two are only ever going to be in town for shows and she decides a tradition of early breakfast the day after is kinda fucked.”

“Tell me about it, think she's some sort of masochist,” she said before pushing herself from the floor, dusting off her robe and walking into the other room.

Hanna bent down, grabbing one of her suitcases off the floor before tossing it onto the bed next to Josh’s damp towel. She tossed clothes out in search of something to wear to breakfast in the warm summer mornings, creating another pile of clothes on the floor. They had one more night in New York, she would pack then.

She pulled out a pair of shorts and a t-shirt, placing them on the bed to change into later, and out the corner of her eye she caught Josh walking over to the door to grab his boots, and he slipped them on with ease.

“Heading out?” She asked, breaking through the silence.

Josh raised his head and looked at her, eyes softening, and then he nodded. “Yeah, yeah,” he stuttered out, “I just figured I would get out of your hair.”

And she tucked her bottom lip between her teeth, nodding silently. She wanted him to stay, even if they were doing nothing, but she didn’t know how he felt. When he stood, she walked into the living area, following behind him to the door. She kept her eyes on the floor, watching his feet carry him to the door. When his feet paused and the door didn’t open, she raised her eyes to look at him.

Pulling the door open behind him, Josh leaned into Hanna, pressing a swift kiss on her cheek before turning to walk out in the hallway. She didn’t even have a second to think about what was happening before Josh turned to the door and they both spotted Phoebe standing in the hallway outside of the room, dressed and bright eyed with a smirk that said “I caught ya.”

☼☼☼

“You no longer get to say that you don’t have feelings for him.” Phoebe huffed while her and Hanna walked down the street from their hotel to a café around the block. “We couldn’t find either of you after Max’s and just assumed you both died somewhere before we got to Chelsea.”

“Well, that’s assuring considering you didn’t even try to look for us.” Hanna said, a tint of humor in her tone. “You all were so off your asses.”

Phoebe shrugged, stepping out to move around a woman with a stroller walking towards them, and then she met back with Hanna, shoulders rubbing. “Anyway, are you going to explain what happened?”

They paused at a street corner, waiting for the traffic to pause while it kept moving by. Hanna laughed. “There’s nothing to say that you don’t already know.”

“So you two finally fucked last night?”

“Why ‘finally’?”

Phoebe snorted into the warm wind. “You say as if we didn’t take bets on it.” Hanna turned from the street, deadpanning to her friend and Phoebe laughed. “Me and Max and Sam won ten bucks, so, thanks for getting laid, I guess.”

They all took bets after Virginia Beach - Danny, Jake, and Russ, and half of the opening band assumed it would happen a lot sooner than it did.

When the traffic light changed and the cars paused, Hanna and Phoebe stepped into the street crossing and strolled across. They were met with an influx of business women and men heading to work, tourists strolling to their next destination on the itinerary, and whoever else found themselves in the city in the middle of summer.

“Whatever,” Hanna rolled her eyes, but she couldn’t hold back a grin. Last night remained so vivid in the back of her mind, a burst of color, a bang, literally.

The two journalists ducked into East Diner, quickly taking a seat in a yellow booth next to the windows and ordering off the breakfast menu - it was coffee and omelettes and pancakes all around. While families with children in strollers sat around them enjoying a family outing, the two girls downed black coffees and ate dry toast in an attempt to swing hangovers and upset stomachs.

“So,” Phoebe licked her lips, sitting her coffee cup back on the table with a small thump, “you finally figure out your feelings? Did his dick clear your mind and make you come to your senses? Or come at all?”

Hanna let out a loud cough at Phoebe’s words as they caught her off guard, and a woman at the table next to them quickly shot the blonde a dirty look, but Phoebe only shrugged, completely unapologetic as always.

“We didn’t necessarily talk about it - it was more of us just realizing that it’s a possibility. I was still confused as fuck and he just…” she grinned at the flashback of the conversation in her mind, “he told me that we would figure it out together.” “So?” Phoebe pressured. “What’s next in the whole ‘figuring it out’ process?”

Hanna picked up her coffee cup and took a quick drink. “I guess it’s just up to the rest of the tour. I think we might try and do something tonight, or not, you know, before you caught us red-handed.”

Phoebe just laughed, head rolling back. “Priceless, I tell you. Josh was happy - smiling, red cheeked, happy, you on the other hand-” and she paused, eyes widening to mimic the face that welcomed her to Hanna’s room, and she let out another laugh, “hilarious,"

Hanna shook her head, shielding her own amusement by taking another drink of her black coffee. Her hangover wasn’t too bad - it was something a quick hot shower could wash away. But the bruises on her hips couldn’t be washed away no matter how hard she could scrub.

“I’m just glad something happened though.” Phoebe admitted, tossing her notepad onto the table to start working. “Maybe it will kick things into speed.”

And it did.

The band and friends had dinner that night at the Rainbow Room under bright neon blue and pink lights, a sparkling chandelier, but just before the check landed on the table, Josh and Hanna excused themselves separately and snuck out to the elevator before anyone noticed. They strolled through Tin Pan Alley, just to catch a glimpse, and caught a cab to St. Marks’ Place where they listened to jazz and sipped cocktails in a booth in the back of the room. When a pianist took the stage to perform a song, Josh turned and tilted his head to talk to her about the song, and Hanna nodded before turning to look at him. And he smiled the sweetest smile before placing a kiss on her cheek, and then one on her lips.

Straight from the jazz club to a cab, they returned to the Gramercy uptown. Even with stomachs full of pasta and alcohol and waves of exhaustion floating over them, they were still forced out for a second night in a row by their very persistent friends who had made it back to the hotel before them. They managed to get one foot into Josh’s room before they were pulled back out. While the rest drank like the world was going to end, Hanna and Josh lingered back, making fun of their friends from across the bar.

There was a familiar face in the bar that night - Violet Thompson. She had been at Max’s the night before with Keith Richards, but that night, she was striking up a conversation with Jake, giving him the inside details of who was in the city. The Who had arrived in the city just that morning while on a recording break and were staying in Brooklyn. Violet was heading down there for a drop and asked if anyone wanted to tag along, and of course, everyone agreed with little to no hesitation. The hotel had a pool, and no one could turn down a chance for a swim.

Standing on the sidewalk outside the bar, Josh and Hanna waved off their friends while they all piled into a van driven by one of Violet’s friends. Everyone was determined to get them to come with, but they wrestled out of their grips and headed back to the Gramercy for a final few hours of relaxation in the city.

They wound up in Josh’s hotel room with a bottle of wine, two glasses, bare feet, and music. They spilled secrets and spilled wine all over the carpet, laughing at their own clumsiness and attempts to clean it with the pure white towels before falling into bed.

But they didn’t have sex. Instead, they laid on his bed, making fun of their friends and tour memories and giggling with glossy eyes and kisses often in between.

“You know, I didn’t always want to be a music journalist.” She said after Josh admitted he read her articles months prior to them meeting in Atlanta. He hummed in confusion and she nodded, laying her head on his stomach and looking up at him while he propped himself against the headboard. “I wanted to be a nurse. My mom was a nurse before I was born, and I don’t know, that just seemed so nice. I always wanted to help people. But now here I am.”

“You’re still helping people,” Josh quipped and she raised a brow. He smiled, a hand stretching out to grab hers, and he played with her rings. “You sewed Danny’s shirt back together, fixed that awful concoction to cure Max’s hangover the other day, you went out and bought Sam underwear before a show when he realized he lost all of his other pairs…” he explained and she let out a loud laugh. Josh chuckled, too. That was a humorous day backstage. “That’s helping if you ask me,”

Her laugh turned into a smile, watching him twirl the silver ring on her thumb. “If you say so,”

Josh’s eyes focused on the way the silver ring caught the light, lost in his own thoughts. “I didn’t always want to be in a band. That was never even an option.”

Hanna overheard Josh telling Phoebe about his previous life plans on one of the first days of the tour, but it still shocked her to hear it from his mouth. He was someone who exuded the personality and energy of a frontman. On stage, it seemed like he didn’t belong anywhere else other than in front of the eyes of thousands of admirers. He wanted to be an actor. While being an actor wasn’t far off from the public attention and lights and cameras, she still couldn’t picture him doing anything else rather than being on stage.

“But I’m glad you are.” She said softly, tilting her head back to look at him. “Because I got to meet you.”

He leaned his head back against the headboard but kept his eyes low. “Do you think we would have met anyways? Somehow - all of us would have eventually met in this lifetime?”

“Well, considering over half the band is literally you and your brothers, I would say meeting them in another lifetime would be inevitable.” She joked and Josh snorted.

“Yeah, I guess you’re right.”

“But I like to think that yeah, in some shape or form of another universe, we all would have found each other anyways.” Hanna rolled onto her side, cheek pressed against Josh’s stomach, and she looked up at him. “Maybe Phoebe and I would have met in a coffee shop or at a gig if not at work… there are endless little things to bring people together.”

“What about us?” Josh asked mindlessly.

Hanna’s heart skipped in her chest at the simple use of the word ‘us.’ She liked to imagine Josh seeing them as a pair, a duo, yet a single entity existing together as one.

“It would probably be something so fucking dumb.” He continued when she didn’t say anything, and then he chuckled to himself before starting again. “Let’s say I was an actor, you were a nurse… we could meet in a hospital somewhere because I got injured on set or something.”

Hanna gasped, her hand grabbing his in excitement. Her eyes went wide and glossy as she looked up at him. “You were having to film something in Minnesota - like something with ice fishing and you slipped and fell on the ice so they had to bring you in to a clinic where I was working.”

“What movie would I be in where I would be ice fishing?”

“As if anything we are saying is realistic, Joshua,” she playfully rolled her eyes, “ice fishing is apparently the deal breaker for you.”

“But I would be the icebreaker,”

“I hate you,”

Hanna rolled her eyes again and they both fell into a fit of laughter. Josh leaned down and grabbed her head, fingers tangling in her hair before tilting her chin back and kissing her amidst laughter.  

He kissed her softly, slowly, with no intentions but rather his feelings behind it. He wanted to kiss her. He wanted to stay right there, with her, for as long as he possibly could.

And Hanna stayed with him. They stayed there all night, talking, laughing, drifting in and out of sleep. She felt Josh roll onto her in the middle of the night and she laughed before succumbing when she realized he was dead asleep. So instead of moving him or waking him, she draped her arms around his shoulders, laying her cheek on top of his head.

For the first time in a while, Hanna didn’t feel so lonely.

☼☼☼

Russ had truly outdone himself.

After nights spent in luxury hotels and expensive bar tabs and dinners paid off in ease, historic venues and private drivers booked, no one expected him to go even bigger and better on the last few legs of the tour. That was, until their van rolled up to JFK airport in Queens and they checked through security to find a private jet waiting for them on the tarmac.

Walking down a ramp from the airport and onto the tarmac, Hanna eyed the white jet setting not too far from them while the heels of her boots began to feel tacky from the heat. It was sleek, white with double blue lines around the body, and when the door came down, everyone ditched their suitcases on the cart to be loaded and ran for the jet in pure joy. It was a private jet specifically for them. It was a luxury that not every band was blessed with, even the bands who made it big time in their own country.

Hanna laughed and placed her bag on the cart to follow the others across the pavement. Clutching her bag closer to her hip, Hanna walked up the steps, ducked her head, and stepped inside the private jet to see everyone already taking their seats, whether that be sprawled across sofas or in the actual seats.

Giving the jet a once-over, Hanna imagined it as something that James Brown or Elton John would have used if they didn’t have their own. It was big enough for the band and their team, single seats facing each other with tables lined both sides of the plane, and a curtain that had been pinned back revealed a second section with sofas and larger seats. Everything felt and seemed expensive that she didn’t even want to touch anything.

She had flown private a handful of times - the summer with Led Zeppelin, the previous year while on the west coast with the Allman Brothers Band, so while it shouldn’t have been something new, it would always feel like it. With this band and this team, she didn’t have to act like flying private was something she did every other weekend jetting off to glamorous places like she did then - now she was able to be herself and act like herself, and that was partly in her reactions because she couldn’t stop admiring everything in front of her.

The plane took off half an hour later after all the bags were packed and everyone was seated. It was only going to be a four hour flight, nothing in comparison to the previous nights on the bus. But all of them were already starting to miss their beds at the Gramercy.

An hour into the flight, Hanna sat on the floor in front of the sofa, flipping through photos and taking notes on a small notepad for her future photo ideas and what she could contribute to Phoebe’s article upon returning to Nashville. They had five shows left - two in Toronto, one in Cincinnati, one in Cleveland, and one in Madison, and yet it didn’t feel like enough.

They could be on the road for two more months and it still wouldn’t feel like enough. At this rate Hanna never wanted to go home.

“Whatcha working on, Honey?”

Hanna looked up from her photos to see Josh walking down the aisle, passing a rowdy group and Russ working in their seats. He abandoned his journal and his seat for her. She dropped her pen onto the table, landing on her notepad.

“Going through the dumb photos we took a couple days ago.” She said and he sank down onto the sofa behind her, his knee and thigh rubbing against her shoulder while he looked at the photos spread across the table.

“Well, I assure whatever photos you have of me are cover-page quality.”

Hanna reached out and grabbed one photo in particular - it was a photo that she had taken of Josh as he walked towards her, singing loudly backstage before the musical festival in Boston. His eyes were half-way shut, mouth open. She shoved it into his chest.

“Think you were singing Streets of Laredo in this one,”

Josh looked at the photo, paused, and his lips flattened. She snorted. “I think it still serves cover page quality,” he quipped looking at her and she rolled her eyes before plucking the photo from him and placing it back on the table.

“Of course you and your giant ego say that,” she said playfully.

Josh chuckled and reached out, hands gripping her shoulders, and he gently squeezed them, pulling her between his knees. She allowed him to pull her into him and tilted her head backwards, looking at him upside down and they laughed at the new perspective of each other.

Down the aisle where everyone was taking part in having a few drinks over planning studio dates, Phoebe elbowed Sam in the ribs to get his attention, and with her eyes locked on the two by the sofa, she urged the younger brother to look at them, too. And they watched as the two talked closely with dumb grins on their faces.

“Was ‘bout time,” Sam whispered as they paused the plans for Max to grab a drink.

Phoebe turned to him, lowering her tone to a whisper. “We never talked about stuff like that, but I think she… I just think she needed something like this.”

Jake’s ear caught wind of the conversation about his twin brother. He took a sip from his beer, tossing the pen down on the notebook filled with obscure song titles and uncompleted lyrics. “Josh has never been the type to mess with relationships. He had a few girlfriends in school but ever since we started the band-” he licked his lips, “he just never found the time or anyone willing to deal with this lifestyle.”

“So maybe they needed each other,” Phoebe said softly with a smile.

Danny took a swig from his cup, sitting it back on the table. “Maybe she’ll give him inspiration so we can finally start working on the new album.”

Phoebe chuckled. “No matter how it turns out, she’ll be a muse,”

☼☼☼

“Turns out you are equally as bad as the first time you played.” Jake snorted when he shuffled cards in a deck backstage in Toronto.

Hanna rolled her eyes at his quip while she sat up from her spot laying on the floor. “Turns out I didn’t learn anything while you kicked my ass every time.”

“All you had to do was watch and learn, babe,”

“Two things I’m apparently not good at.” She said under her breath, watching him lay out another handful of cards in front of her, Sam, Danny, and Mitch.

It was an hour after lunch and an hour before soundcheck, so they had to find something to pass the time. They had opened some fan-mail, made a few calls, played a round of beer pong, but still ultimately found themselves bored. Hanna got roped into playing a game of poker while trying to fetch her camera as the others were in the media room for scheduled interviews.

It was the second and final night in Toronto for the band. They sold out the previous night and had the same expectations for that day, too.

Tomorrow morning they would be on another flight, this time to Cincinnati for a music festival, and then they would be reunited with Gypsy Wagon to finish off the tour leg in Cleveland and Madison. The longer tour went on the crazier the crowds became and the more everyone began to live in the moment, never forgetting a second they were on stage or with those they wanted to be around the most.

And Hanna didn’t want to take a minute for granted. So she cherished every second - the early mornings, the poker games she always lost, the ache in her feet at the end of the night, and even while carrying drunk guitarists up to their hotel rooms after a night out.

Needless to say Jake and Harry owed her big time after the previous night at The Brown Derby.

“I fold,” Hanna huffed, placing her cards face-down in the pot in the middle of the coffee table.

No matter how many games they played and whatever was on the line, she was always going to be better the first time in comparison to every time since.

Voices and footsteps approached the door before two bodies walked in through the propped open door. Everyone raised their heads, looking up to see Phoebe and Max dropping into empty seats. They had wrapped the press junket for the day. Sometimes the junkets and interviews took more energy than covering a show did.

Max looked at the group surrounding the coffee table and he tsked. “Honey kicking your guys’ asses?”

“No,” she grumbled from the floor.

“Other way around?”

“Ask Sam,” Mitch grumbled before folding his hand, too, leaving Danny and Sam while Jake took part as the dealer.

Hanna sat up, hair bouncing around her shoulders, and she looked at Phoebe sitting across the length of the table from her. The blonde looked dead - slouched back, eyes forward focusing on the wall.

“What’s up with you, Pheebs?”

“Nothing,” she said without even a blink, “just realizing that every interviewer is asking the same questions I have so this article is going to turn out like utter shit-”

“Utter brilliance,” Sam cut her off, glancing away from his cards to wag a finger at the journalist, “I doubt any of them will have a story about half the shit we have done the past few weeks.”

Phoebe tore her eyes from the wall and looked at Hanna who agreed. “It’s true,” she shrugged.

Jake perked up. “No one else is going to write about how we drank with Keith Richards-”

“And how we skinny dipped in the ocean,” Mitch shrugged.

“Or about the time that fan in Atlanta asked Sam to chew gum for them and spit it back into their hand,”

“There’s the time Danny and Sam got stuck in those kids rides…”

“Or the time Max broke his TV in the Raleigh,”

“About the time the roadies were caught stealing the bras that were thrown on stage,”

Max gasped, “or when we drove an hour out of Baltimore before turning around because Russ left his wallet in the hotel-”

“Oh, or when Hanna had to go buy me underwear because I lost mine,” Sam said and everyone laughed gently, all turning back to Phoebe.

Hanna smiled when she realized Phoebe was laughing too. “See,” she said, “no interview is better than the first hand experience.”

When Russ stepped into the room from catering and Danny finally beat Sam at the small round of poker, Hanna looked up and around to realize more than a few were missing. Harry was somewhere with someone doing god knows what, probably on a smoke break, but Josh was missing, too.

She raised a brow. “Hey,” she said over Russ and Max talking, getting Phoebe’s attention, “where did Josh go from the media room?”

“I think he went to check on the stage before soundcheck.”

Hanna nodded, watching Jake pick up the cards to place in a stack in shuffle. She wondered if Josh had snuck off to practice before soundcheck, or if he was taking in the venue for the night.

Pushing herself from the floor, Hanna smoothed down the material of her skirt, grabbed he camera, and stepped out of the dressing room, leaving the others to switch to a different card game and leaving Phoebe smiling because she knew exactly where she was headed.

Hanna silently walked down the concrete corridors, following the arrows pasted on the walls to the stage. She passed by roadies rolling in equipment boxes, singing hellos before walking around the thick velvet curtain of the stage wing, stepping onto the stage where she spotted Josh setting up his microphone stand at the front of the stage.

Jake’s Gibson sat on a stand beside the amps, the drum kit was almost completed in the back, and the keys sat adjacent to the drums, still on its wheels to be later moved to the side. Maple Leaf Gardens arena was eerily quiet - thousands of empty seats before them that would later be packed.

Josh sat the microphone stand up front on the stage and spun around, in the midst of the turn, he spotted Hanna’s figure next to a stack of equipment boxes. He paused dramatically, pointing at her with a grin,

“What’s up?”

He bent down, grabbing black cords off the floor before raising back to look up at her.

“Got my ass handed to me in poker and decided to save myself the embarrassment of a third round.” She admitted, walking further onto the stage, boots thumping with each step. Josh just chuckled, plugging the cords into an amplifier beside the stage support beams. Hanna watched his hands move, bracelets dangling at his wrists. “You decide to pitch in and help with the roadies?”

“Figured I would be a decent person for once,” he cracked, “but now I’m realizing just how much the poor bastards have to put up with.”

Hanna stifled a laugh and walked around the back of the stage to the drums, and then she slid around to the keys, placing her camera on a stool before perching herself upon the bench. She scanned the board, gazing at the knobs and buttons, wondering what all they did, but she placed it safe not to mess with anything, instead finding her hands drawn to place upon the white keys.

Josh watched her pretend to play a few keys together and he unraveled a cord in his hands, plugging the end into the back of the keyboard. “You didn’t tell me you could play.”

Hanna hummed. “I learned how to play Mary Had a Little Lamb when I was ten, if that counts,” she placed a single finger on the keys and played them in 1-2-3s. When she finished, she looked up to Josh and his grin was infectious, causing her to giggle. “That’s all I got,”

In brisk steps, Josh rounded the edge of the keyboard and scooted his butt on the bench to sit next to her. “Here,” he motioned her to place her hands on the keys, and he reached out, gently placing his hands above hers. Hanna pressed her hands upwards into his palms and he guided her across the keys, helping her play a few, familiar sounding chords.

“Wait, what song is that?” She asked, but a second later her mind was back on how warm his hands were, how they were about the same size as hers, but she felt as if he engulfed her.

Josh tilted his head to the side. “Bob Dylan, George Harrison, whichever you prefer,”

“If Not For You,” she turned to him, eyes scanning his side profile. “Can you play it?”

“Yeah, yeah, I learned it on a whim in the studio one day.”

Hanna pulled her hands back from the keys, silently asking Josh to play it for her, and he read her motions well. He scooted closer to her while stretching out his wrists and then placed his fingers back on the keys. He paused, running through the chords in his mind, before finally pressing down and beginning to play a beautiful melody. It wasn’t a song heavy on the keys, but Josh, with his magic, made it work.

Hanna swayed her head, her shoulders back and forth. She hummed the melody before feeling it bubble out from the inside, and she began to sing; “If not for you, babe I couldn’t even find the door, I couldn’t even see the floor, I’d be sad and blue, if not for you,”

Josh smiled as he listened to Hanna’s voice, as he felt her shoulder knock with his. Her speaking voice was normally deeper, but when she sang, it became higher, softer. And he loved both voices equally.

Eyes on the keys, Josh moved his fingers over swiftly, jumping into the next part of the song, and he sang with her; “If not for you, babe the night would see me wide awake, the day would surely have to break, it would not be new, if not for you,”

When Josh moved his fingers again to play the next set of keys, his fingers slipped, hitting the wrong note and sending the song into a downward spiral of deeper notes. He quickly retracted his hands from the keys and they both burst into laughter, and Josh hid his face against Hanna’s shoulder in brief embarrassment while laughing at himself.

Hanna laughed with him, not at him, and she reached across her body with her left hand to pat his cheek. When he raised his head, his cheeks were flushed pink, he was grinning.

“Okay, okay, let’s teach you something,” and he helped her place her fingers, giving her pointers while he helped her play the first few keys. With his hands on hers and smiles between them, she felt a part of him slowly cement itself in the cracks of her heart.

☼☼☼

The hotel room on the top floor of Cincinnati’s Netherland Plaza was full of girls. Only girls.

Pizza boxes and empty milkshake cups sat on the coffee table, the television was blasting some black and white movie on cable, and the girls were in their pajamas, taking in the night of a so called “girls day” to the highest degree before their early wake-up call in the morning.

Hanna, with her head laying on Sapphire’s lap, ate a handful of popcorn straight from the bag, laughing with the others at Jodi’s attempt to braid Phoebe’s short hair. Across the room, Jodi’s friend Luna was downing wine straight from the bottle at the table while trying to paint her toenails an array of multi-colors.

It was the first (and probably only) official girls day of the tour. Escaping from the grips of the two bands, managers, and the stresses of day jobs, they went to the hair salon and had their hair done for the first time since tour began, had a fancy dinner, and that night they found all of the drinks and snacks they could and locked themselves away in Phoebe's and Hanna's room on the top floor with the best view of the city river. Both bands did come knocking to check in on “their girls”,, but when the door was opened, it was slammed right back in their face and laughter ensued on the inside of the room.

For Hanna, it felt just like a sleepover. The whole night made her heel like she was back in high school, back at her apartment with her best friends - the pajamas, the snacks and drinks, movies, makeovers, it was all so close to home. And Hanna felt comfortable with those she was around. All the girls she spent her days with had finally grown on her.

Shaking the popcorn bag, Hanna held it up, offering some of the snack to Sapphire who quietly gasped in excitement and grabbed a few pieces for herself. When Sapphire tried to toss a piece into her mouth, she completely missed and the piece dropped right onto Hanna’s face, causing the younger girl to flinch and squeal. Sapphire burst into laughter, and then so did Jodi, Phoebe, and Luna, and Hanna reached a hand into the bag and picked out pieces to throw at them, too.

Phoebe eyed the popcorn flying in the air in her direction and opened her mouth, catching it swiftly, her arms flying up in celebration while the others laughed and cheered.

[spark-my-nature]

It Takes Three to Tango (4) - DRW & SFK

The trio of terror, back by popular demand (it's me, I wanted to write it)

Chapter Summary: Sam, Danny and you navigate the morning after.

Chapter WC: 6.4K | Pairings: Danny x Reader x Sam (MFM threesome with slash pairings)

Warnings: 18+ Explicit sexual content (Oral, M/F receiving, anal fingering), language, spanking if you squint

Previous chapter

-------- ⭐︎☽⭐︎☾⭐︎ --------

Your face was warm, a different sort of warm than the sweaty, sticky warmth surrounding your body. As you drifted into consciousness, you saw the red shadowy light of the sun behind your closed eyelids, and you sighed quietly, letting yourself slowly become aware of your surroundings before you even opened your eyes. 

You could smell patchouli faintly, and the lavender spray you spritzed on the bedsheets after doing laundry. The latter you expected, the former caused a smile to creep across your face as memories began flashing in your mind’s eye, as there was only one boy you associated with that musky, hippie smell. 

Sammy. 

Eyes still closed, you listened closely as you determined the position you were laying in. Behind you, big-spooning up to your back, was the hot sweaty chest of a still-snoring Daniel. His big, familiar muscled arms secured your body as close as his sleeping figure could get you, your heart swelling with a rush of adoration for the teddy bear you called your boyfriend. You let yourself relax into the little slice of heaven that Danny created for you every time he held you close like this, impenetrable against the world, just for a little while in this innocent morning’s quiet. 

Your hand rested on another expanse of warm skin, and your pillow, you realized, was no pillow at all, but rather a plane of smooth, soft skin stretched over sinewy muscle. Your heart fluttered, a real grin that you didn’t even try to conceal forming across your half-hidden face. 

Curiosity won over the sleepy bliss you felt, fueled by the need to gain a visual account of this hazy, soft entanglement of bodies and bedsheets to pair with your other three senses. 

From the corner of your eye, the curtains, fluttering with the summer breeze blowing through the cracked-open window, filtered the beaming sun down to a golden, muted glaze of light that seemed to anoint the three of you in it’s delicate sheen. 

Down below, Sam’s chest, rhythmically rising and falling with his gentle breaths. Your hand rested just at the bottom of his ribcage, your pinkie finger nestled in the subtle hollow of his abdomen beneath it. Up and down like a ship, your hand rode the silky skin like ocean waves lulling you into an even more peaceful trance.

Directly in front of you, Sam’s neck, and a little higher, his jaw, just out of focus but visible in your peripheral. Shadows blanketed this hollow you’d nested in through your slumber like a little owl, kept safe and sound through the night between both men. The one behind you, guarding your heart and soul, familiarity and security, owner and giver of the most whole and sublime love you’d ever known, your knight in shining armor. And the one before you, your figurative devil-on-your-shoulder sidekick, your most treasured and closest friend that could, and had, taken you through the trenches and peaks of new experiences, and then in turn, had guided you back home with a comforting smile and a promise of more adventure. 

Danny was passionate, unselfish and encompassing love. 

After the evening you’d shared with him, you felt even more certain of it, and even more in love with him. If Danny’s place in your heart was a tree, it would be the biggest, sturdiest old oak, meters wide and roots just as deep into the ground as the trunk was tall. 

There was a new seed now, though, one that you knew in your heart had always been buried, dormant and unacknowledged. The shell of it, buried deep in the earth, had, sometime between last evening and this moment in time, cracked open with the tiniest sprout of that very same, warm feeling, growing its way upward right alongside Danny’s metaphorical tree.

It wasn’t an unwelcome feeling. You didn’t even really feel guilty once you realized it was there. You knew there had to be a discussion with Danny, though, but mostly because you had a sneaking, heart-warming suspicion that he felt it too. 

But not now. The talking could come later, not now when your boyfriend’s arms squished you closer in his sleep and your friend, recently turned lover, rolled his head lazily to rest his cheek against the crown of your head. 

Your heart rate picked up slightly as Sam’s hand clumsily located your hand on his chest, curling his long fingers around your own smaller ones as a hum of contentment vibrated beneath them. 

“Are you still sleeping?” came his whispered, sleepy question, slurred in an unvocalized rasp across your forehead. 

You smiled shyly into his neck. “No, I’m awake,” you breathed back. 

The shift of his face against your head belayed his smile, making your heart flutter all over again. As if to make it burst entirely, he pressed his lips in a soft, tender kiss to your forehead, then took a deep breath of your sweet-smelling hair before sighing happily. 

“Danny looks so young when he sleeps.” Sam’s quiet remark had your chest clenching with an unnamable emotion.

“Mmm. You’re lucky, you knew him when he was young.”

Sam smiled wistfully as he nuzzled affectionately into your hair, his eyes still tracing his oldest friend’s sleeping face. “Yeah, especially cause we’re so ancient now. Over the hill.”

You smiled as you buried your face further into Sam’s neck, “I hope you have your names on retirement home lists.”

Sam’s grin was evident in his voice, even as he yawned, “Nah, Danny’s gonna keep me in his attic, we already planned it out. He said he’ll bring me soup every day and he’ll keep a bedpan up there, and as soon as he can’t climb the stairs anymore, he’ll send a few beautiful young ladies up there who’ll give me one last hoorah before my heart gives out and I keel over in a blaze of glory.”

By the end of his tirade, you were desperately muffling your giggles against his neck, playfully smacking his chest, “Oh my god, shut up, you’re such an idiot.” 

Sam laughed under his breath, pleased as ever that he’d made you laugh. 

“Plans might’ve changed now, though.” 

“Oh yeah?” you grinned.

He nodded lightly, “Mhm, yeah, see, now I know that I don’t need hookers, cause my heart almost gave out last night with you alone.” You snorted into another round of muffled laughter, and he continued, “May as well save my retirement money, right? I’ll just get you to finish me off- ha, in both ways,” he giggled, “and then I can leave my dwindling estate to you and Danny’s grandkids, set ‘em up for college, white picket fences, the whole american dream.”

You finally lifted your head out of his neck, taking in each other’s faces for the first time that morning with matching goofy smiles. “You realize I’d be all wrinkly and grey, right? I’d probably have to take my dentures out before anything.”

Sam exaggeratedly rolled his eyes back with a fake moan, smirking at you, “No teeth? Sounds like a win to me.”

You groaned quietly, cringing and laughing. “You’re disgusting!”

“Sam, stop grossing out my girlfriend.” You craned your neck around with a giggle at Danny’s exasperated morning voice, muffled against your shoulder. His curls were an unholy mess around his sweet freckled face, and your heart skipped a beat as he fluttered his long dark lashes open, fixing you with his mossy green speckled, earthy eyes. 

“G’morning, baby,” you smiled, feeling especially lovesick for him this morning. 

He hummed with a sleepy, loving smile, blinking at you demurely. “Morning, sunshine,” he purred, voice deep and rumbly as he leaned forward to give you a kiss. 

Sam watched you both interact, curious and fond, feeling not quite included but not quite left out either. Prying his way out of that neutral sort of limbo, he joked softly, “Hey, don’t I get a good morning kiss?”

A strange pang of guilt was soothed by the exhilarated warmth you felt as Danny grinned lazily and shifted up on his elbow to lean over you. “Course you do, pretty boy,” he flirted, a devastatingly sexy thing to say when paired with the deep roughness of his voice. 

Sam blushed with a shy smile as he leaned forward, closing his eyes as Danny’s lips pressed to his. Beneath them, you watched from the interesting angle how your boyfriend kissed, how he claimed Sam’s bottom lip, just like he did yours, and how Sam let himself be led through the gentle kiss, the slight angle he tipped his head to, the quiet noise of their lips as they pulled apart. 

It was so pure, and genuine. They kissed like they had been lovers since the beginning of time, so in tune with each other, it made you forget they’d only known each other in this way for mere hours. 

Sam flashed Danny with a smile that was both shy and knowing, Danny returning it with a fond grin of his own. Sam then looked down at you, raising his brows in a wordless question, his eyes pleading, ‘Please let me in, let me in and kiss me, like he did.’

You made the split-second realization, then, that the almost telepathic connection your boys had was shared with you and Sam as well, and the thought made you want to scream with happiness, with how full of love and joy you felt. You pulled Sam by the neck with a blissful smile, and he seemed to absolutely melt above you, slotting his lips with yours warmly with the tiniest, almost untraceable groan of relief and satisfaction.

When he pulled his lips away, he simply gazed down at you for a moment, thoughtful and infatuated, like he was trying to read your mind, but also like he already knew what you were thinking, and he loved it. 

Danny’s hand ran along the curves of your waist and hips beneath the blanket, settling just past the swell of your hipbone at the top of your thigh. You became so suddenly aware that all three of you were naked beneath the fuzzy sheet, your cheeks felt hot as a quirky grin found its way on your face. 

Sam face morphed into a mischievous smirk, effortlessly following your train of thought, having watched Danny’s hand move under the blanket. 

You stared up at him for a second, and began giggling shyly beneath his smug gaze. “Quit staring at me like that,” you weakly protested, only making his smirk grow. 

“Like what?” He teased, “I’m not allowed to look at you now?” 

You jokingly shook your head, faking an innocent grin. “Nope, that’s right.” 

Danny chuckled behind you, thumbing over your hip teasingly as he watched. 

Sam raised a brow, bringing his hand up to the hem of the blanket where it draped over the swell of your breasts. “So I definitely… shouldn’t…” he trailed off with an increasingly devious smirk, toying with the blanket. You wriggled, giggling as you went to hold your blanket up with the hand that had rested on Sam’s chest, but Danny teamed up with the enemy and grabbed your wrist, securing you defenselessly with a naughty giggle. 

“Hey!” You gawked playfully at Danny, getting only a shrug and a smirk for an answer. Sam playfully tugged the blanket down an inch, threatening to uncover more as you laughed and struggled against Danny’s hold. 

To your surprise, Sam released the blanket and smiled wide, even holding it up to your collarbones as he dove in for a quick kiss and then sat up to get out of bed. 

“Where are you going?” Danny quickly asked, sounding adorably worried. 

Beautiful and shamelessly naked, Sam stood up, cracking a smirk as both you and Danny blushed and pointedly directed your gaze to his face. “Just bathroom,” he gestured with a thumb. “I’ll be back in a sec.” 

He strolled out casually, and you bit your lip as your eyes lowered to the cute wiggle of his butt before the bathroom door shut behind him across the hall. 

Glancing from the corner of your eye, you caught Danny doing the same thing and you giggled, making him look down at you, blushing when he realized he’d been caught.

Giving you a bashful grin, he waved you off, “Oh, shut up.” 

You rolled around in his arms, your chest pressing to his and your mouth seeking his barely stubbled jaw. 

“Mmmmhh, why, are you feeling shy?” you smirked lazily as you kissed along the sharp angle of his face. 

“No,” Danny grinned above you, closing his eyes as your lips loved on his neck. 

“Liar,” you giggled, smoothing your hand over his chest, the one under you wedging up to cup his cheek. 

Danny huffed playfully, forgoing a response. You kissed and licked playfully over an old, faded hickey that you never seemed to let heal fully. His makeup team probably thought it was a weird birthmark at this point, but you couldn’t help it, not with the way that particular spot made Danny whine and bite his lip every time.

“Oh-“ his quivering voice sending a shock of arousal through your system. 

“It’s sweet that you’re shy, baby,” you purred, “Cute, you blush just looking at his ass when your dick was pounding into it last night.” 

Your fluttery whisper and hot breath beneath his ear drew a shiver and a tortured groan out of your boyfriend, just like you intended, and you smirked hard. 

He rolled his head as you pulled back, fixing you with an exasperated grin. “Fuck you,” he shook his head with nothing but love and humor in his tone. 

“Now there’s a suggestion,” you winked, and Danny’s eyes darkened slightly, suddenly tugging your hand south. He held your open palm to his stiff cock, and you bit your lip, all humor flying out the window at the needy twitch he gave. 

“Oh, fuck Danny,” you breathed, meeting his eyes with a flirty smile, curling your hand around his thickness, barely stroking him, enjoying the hot hardness in your hand. “You been hard the whole time?” 

He nodded, sucking on his lip before releasing it with a sharp inhale as you squeezed gently. “W-was having a nice fuckin’ dream,” he admitted, thrusting into your gentle grip. “So I woke up hard already, and then Sam, and you, and-“ he closed his eyes as his brows furrowed, whining through his nose as you began stroking him with purpose. 

Behind you, there was a smug clearing of a throat. “What about me?” 

Danny startled slightly at Sam’s cocky, pleased-as-punch voice, sending his cock through your fist with extra vigor and making him twitch and grunt, struggling to keep his eyes open. 

You turned to look at him over your shoulder, a response ready on your tongue before it disintegrated at the sight of Sam’s stiff cock in his fist, his opposite shoulder leaning against the wall of the doorway. 

Licking your lips, you regretfully released Danny’s cock, much to his dismay. “How long have you been standing there instead of getting your ass back in bed?” 

Sam’s face lit up in a grin, straightening and padding over, comfortably swinging a leg onto the bed and landing beside you with a bounce on the mattress. You pushed up onto your knees, sitting on your feet as both men’s hands sought their respective erections in sync. 

“You know, you two are… unfairly gorgeous,” you sighed, drinking them in as the blanket fell off your shoulders, uncovering both you and Danny to each other and to Sam’s appreciative eyes. 

Sam scooched closer to Danny, the bony shoulder brushing his bicep. “Says you,” Sam absently returned, eyes drinking in the sight of you, the curves and shadows casted in the golden light. 

Danny kept his eyes on you as he turned his face in Sam’s direction. “She takes my fucking breath away all the time,” he murmured. 

Sam bit his lip as he smiled fondly, nodding as his eyes met your blushing face again. “Yeah… I’m quickly learning what you mean.”

Sam’s head lolled to the side, leaning his temple against Danny’s shoulder. You smiled bashfully, leaning forward as you stroked both your hands up the inner thighs of both boys at either side of you, your eyes following the movements of their respective fists one at a time. 

Danny bent his knee, switching hands on his needy cock. He swallowed, his breathing picking up as his wandering eyes left your body and watched Sam’s hand for a moment. 

You watched with a knowing grin, catching the way Danny licked his lips as he lazily jerked himself. He’d looked at you that exact same way, the few times you’d found yourself putting on a show for him, not unlike the show Sammy was giving beside him under his hungry watch. 

Sam followed your gaze, Danny’s eyes flying up to meet the brown pair now locked on his. “I think we could find a better way to uh… pass the time,” he coyly hinted, glancing between you and Danny. 

You gave Danny a wide grin, your mischievous gleam making him blush preemptively and chuckle, “Seems like you’ve got something in mind, my love.” 

Sam perked up, releasing his cock to sit up straighter and matching your smile. “Oh, do share, doll,” he teased, his free hand coming to smooth up your thigh. 

You shrugged, leaning back on your hand, bringing a slow, sensual hand up your front. “Well, actually, what I’m thinking wasn’t even my idea,” you grinned pointedly at Danny, cupping your breast. 

Danny, torn between watching your hand and blushing at the playful, taunting way you lorded your knowledge over him, released himself as well and sat up to level with Sam, all three of you sitting up in a triangle. 

“By all means, babe, enlighten him,” he bashfully ran a hand through his curls. 

Sam leaned forward, bringing a knee up to his chin and leaning on it as he bit back his boyish smile. “Ohh ho ho, spill, sweetheart.” 

You smirked at Danny, giving him a teasing flick of your brows, then pushed forward, crawling over Sam and guiding him beneath you on his back. He watched with excited fascination as you manhandled him down, wiggling and shifting down the bed and finally settling at the opposite side of him. With Sam sandwiched between you and Danny, both of you hovering over him, you leaned down and gave him a sweet kiss. 

Danny shifted onto his side, holding himself up on his elbow, touching a hesitant hand to Sam’s upper thigh. You smiled faintly, kissing a wet trail down Sam’s sinewy neck, humming a pleased sound when Sam shivered and parted his lips with a sigh. 

“Well, let me set the scene,” you began in a low, seductive voice, roaming your hand over his chest slowly. “We were on the couch, just out there,” you gestured vaguely with a nod before returning to his silky skin, “a little drunk, and fucking horny.”

Sam inhaled sharply, grinning lazily. “I’d expect no less from you two.” 

Danny chuckled and massaged Sam’s hip, his fingers dangerously close to Sam’s groin causing his erection to twitch and bob in the air. 

Continuing on, you licked at Sam’s pulse point, “So I was in his lap, and he started talking to me, and fuck Sammy,” you nipped his skin with a wistful sigh, “he was saying the filthiest, most beautiful things.”

“Shit… like, like what?” Sam breathed, squirming and panting under your combined touches. You smirked, catching a glance of Danny’s bashful but pleased face beneath Sam’s jaw. 

“Thing he wanted to do to you,” you whispered, kissing his addicting neck, “things he wanted me to watch him do to you. Things he wanted us both to do to you.” 

Danny hummed in agreement, his fingertips grazing down the top of Sam’s cock from base to tip, the sensation combined with your eager mouth sending a ripple of pleasure through Sam’s lithe body. 

“Fuck,” he gasped, arching against Danny’s hand invitingly. “Tell me,” he pleaded. 

Danny took Sam’s cock in hand, and Sam rolled his head to look up at Danny, doe-eyed and needy. Danny took one look at Sam’s submissive face and groaned under his breath, stroking him slowly. 

“Yeah? You wanna know what you had me thinkin’ about?” 

Sam nodded, sucking his lip under his teeth as he blinked up at him. 

Danny’s eyes trailed down Sam’s torso, “You know… so many times, you’d be playing, and you’d just throw your hair back, and your mouth would open in that sexy little face you make when you get into it,” Sam groaned softly, nodding along to Danny’s words, on the edge of his figurative seat as Danny barely stroked him fast enough to keep him on edge. 

“God I wanted to be the one making you make those faces.” Danny’s eyes flashed up to Sam’s, several shades darker and heavily lidded. 

“Oh god,” Sam let out the shivery, whiny words with a buck of his hips into Danny’s fist.

Danny drank in Sam’s face, desperate and pleading as he hovered over him. “I wanted to see you make those faces from below. I wanted to make you make those faces, with your pretty cock down my throat,” he growled under his breath. 

You moaned, sucking Sam’s pebbled nipple into your mouth, riding the full-body wave of Sam’s writhing, the result of Danny’s filthy confession muttered over his parted lips. 

“Holy… sh-shit…” Sam choked out, brows knit tightly as he thrusted up into Danny’s fist, before crying out pathetically when Danny let him go entirely. 

“There’s more, though, pretty boy,” Danny smirked, shifting onto his knees, grabbing Sam’s jaw gently as the boy fluttered his eyes open. 

You grinned smugly, piecing together the rest in your head, and rising on all fours. Sam looked over at you before Danny’s grip on his jaw tightened, pulling his gaze back to him dominantly. You leaned down and whispered near Sam’s ear, “I love this part.” 

Sam shivered, “Fuck…”

Danny thumbed over his bottom lip, smirking. “See, she really liked the idea of something I said to her.” 

You twirled Sammy’s hair around your finger, nodding sweetly. 

“What-“ Sam swallowed roughly, “…what’s that?”

Danny leaned down, his lips brushing Sam’s as he held his jaw firmly. “She wants to watch me take a mouthful of your cock down my throat while she rides your pretty face.” 

Sam whimpered, writhing again. “Fuck.”

“And we both wanna give her what she wants, don’t we Sammy?” Danny purred, pressing a soft kiss to Sam’s pouty lips before parting with a smirk and shuffling backwards down his body. 

“Yes, fucking- anything, please, just use me, beautiful girl, it’s yours,” Sam craned up at you, grasping for your thighs. 

You caressed his cheek with a wide smile, leaning over him. “What’s mine, sweet boy?”

He whispered roughly, “My face, my cock- anything you fucking want, I wanna be yours, I wanna be good for you.” 

A rush of dizzying lust swept over you, faintly registering the sound of your own moan as you closed the distance, crashing into his lips in an upside-down kiss. 

After a short moment, Sam jolted, gasping and whining suddenly. Glancing down, you were met with Danny’s devilish smirk, his body laid out between Sam’s thighs with his tongue retracting from where he’d given the tiniest kitten lick to Sam’s leaking tip. 

“Please,” Sam urged, breathless and needy, pulling at your thighs to settle you comfortably over his face. 

“Okay, just like, tap me if you need air, okay?” you rushed out, straddling him on your knees. 

His only response was a muffled, “Mmmhh,” as he tugged your hips down, hard, planting your pussy firmly over his waiting mouth. 

You cried out, your hands cementing to Sam’s chest for stability, shifting over his mouth as his tongue curled and lapped through your folds. 

You sighed out, “Shiiiiit, Sammy, babe...” 

Danny hummed lowly, watching you find your footing atop your new throne. The sound drew your faded attention back to him, and he smirked as you met his eyes. 

“You gonna watch me like a good girl?” he lowly taunted you, quirking an eyebrow as he took Sam’s cock in his hand. Sam let out a muffled whine, sucking your clit between his lips and drawing out a harsh moan from yours. 

“Yeah,” you nodded quickly, wincing from the onslaught of pleasure, “C’mon baby, taste him. He’s so sweet, his cock is so nice to suck on,” you goaded, playing a little dirty to rile him up. You wanted to get Danny as desperate and feral as you felt. 

Danny pumped him in his hand, hovering his lips close to Sam’s tip, his breath no doubt warming it with each word. “Oh yeah? You’re so sweet, aren’t you, baby? Letting me share your new toy?” 

Sam groaned, long and high-pitched, the vibrations of it shooting through your core. You ground against his mouth, whining breathlessly as you struggled to keep your eyes on your boyfriend. 

Danny grinned darkly. “That’s my good girl.” 

He slowly leaned forward, taking Sam’s velvety head into his mouth, closing his lips around him and sucking gently, keeping his eyes locked on you through it all. 

Sam’s fingers sunk into your thighs, gripping you tight enough to bruise, nodding his head into your core as he moaned. “Mmmfffuuuck-“ his muffled voice sounded between your thighs. 

Danny winked at you, sinking down a little further, Sam’s cock coming out glistening with his spit as he retreated slowly. 

“Jesus Christ, Danny,” you panted, hypnotized and faint with desire. “I was fucking right, you’re so fucking pretty sucking his cock, baby.” 

Danny actually blushed, pulling off Sam with a wet pop, grinning up at you. “Thank you sweetheart,” he pumped Sam faster, pausing to lick up the underside of him in a slow, explorative move that had both you and Sam whimpering at the sight and feeling. 

Kissing Sam’s frenulum, he murmured, “You look beautiful too, riding Sammy’s face. Is he doing a good job for you? He keeping my beautiful girl happy?” 

Sam, as if to prove himself, sucked your clit between his lips again, flicking his tongue over it quickly. 

You gasped and nodded quickly your head drooping to the side as you humped over his tongue. “Mmmyeah,” you nodded, brows furrowing, “feels so fuckin’ good.”

Sam kneaded your thighs, an acknowledgement of your praise. Your nails scratched his chest lightly, feeling breathless. 

Danny smacked Sam’s outer thigh, making Sam jump and moan into you. Danny soothed his broad hand over the stinging red skin, arrogantly cooing, “Good boy, Sammy. Make her cum, and I’ll make you cum.”

You smirked lazily, matching Danny’s devilish grin as Sam muffled into you, “Oh fuck-“

With that, Danny dove back down, reacquainting himself with Sam’s cock, testing the waters and bobbing his head in a slow rhythm. 

Sam was a moaning, shuddery mess beneath you, not that you were much better, with the animalistic show your boyfriend was putting on for you and the fervent, desperate way Sam ate you out. As Danny sucked harder, faster, gaining confidence the more he unraveled the lanky bassist beneath you, you felt your stomach tightening in that familiar warmth. 

“God, fuck- don’t stop, Sammy don’t- don’t fuckin’ stop-“ You clawed at his chest, urging him with your bucking hips. 

Danny worked his tongue against the sensitive underside of Sam’s head, the sloppy noises drawing a cry of pleasure out of the boy’s chest. A groaned, slurred out call bubbled out of Sam, “Danny!” 

In his own growing desperation, Sam’s mouth slowed down, losing focus, and you whimpered in frustration, hanging your head forward as you sought more friction. 

Danny cocked an eyebrow, pulling off Sam quickly. “Hey,” he growled, “Didn’t say you could stop,” he smacked the side of Sam’s ass, gripping the flesh tight. 

Sam keened, panting and moaning as he furiously dove his face between your thighs, shaking himself back and forth as he licked and sucked at you. You jolted forward, crying out obscenities, Danny taking Sam’s throbbing cock back into the warmth of his mouth. 

You felt Sam struggling to keep focus, the jerking and trembling of his body giving him away, but he held strong, devouring you with a feverish appetite, his chin and cheeks slippery with your slick as you rode his face. 

“So close,” you squeaked, throwing your head back and slipping a hand into your hair, that knot in your belly drawing tighter and tighter. Danny squeezed Sam’s base, suctioning hard around his head and lapping at his frenulum, and the resulting echoing groan vibrating through you from Sam’s mouth sent you hurtling over the tip of your peak, cumming all over Sam’s open mouth with what was surely a scream of his name. 

Through the fog, you blinked down at Danny, still bucking out the last waves of your orgasm, and you caught sight of Danny’s fingers pumping into Sam’s hole, curling up and beckoning Sam into his own high. You lifted up your hips slightly, giving the boy room to breath as he shouted Danny’s name. Danny rested Sam’s head against his tongue, leaving his mouth open as he jerked his length quickly, milking ropes of Sam’s cum across his tongue. He held eye contact with you the entire time, his stare burning and intense as his fist flew up and down Sam’s length. 

Once Sam jerked and gave one last sigh, his body loosening of all tension, you exhaled slowly and carefully dismounted his face. 

Flopping on your side, your head by Sam’s knees, you smiled, then began chuckling quietly, resting your face on Sam’s thigh and blinking lazily.

“Well fuck,” Sam stated, catching his breath with a giggle. 

Danny sat up on his knees, his hand loosely jerking and tugging at his own cock for some relief. As quickly as you’d collapsed, you felt revived and reignited by the thick, flushed erection your boyfriend had neglected. 

“What do you want, Danny?” you asked, licking your lips. 

Above you, Sam raised his head, face twisting into a dirty smirking at Danny’s cock. “Yeah, Danny, what can we do for you?” he goaded. 

Danny bit his lip, “Mmm… so many options,” he grinned crookedly, looking between you both. “I do seem to remember something from last night though, Sammy, you were promised a next time I believe,” he innocently stated, stroking himself lazily.

“A next time, huh?” Sam cocked his head coyly. 

You grinned, “Oh right, Sammy, you poor thing, you haven’t gotten to taste Danny yet.”

Sam’s eyes darkened, licking his lips. “Oh, that can be happily arranged. C’mere, big boy, lay down for me,” he patted the bed flirtatiously. 

Danny smiled wide, huffing a quiet chuckle and laying himself out beside Sam. You shifted, making yourself comfortably up by Danny’s shoulders, your thighs a makeshift pillow for your boyfriend’s curly head. Danny watched Sam descend between his thighs with bated breath. 

You toyed with his silky curls, watching smugly as Sam settled on his stomach, propping up on one elbow. He rested his free hand on Danny’s thigh, sighing to himself as he squeezed and smoothed his hand over the muscle. 

“You ever let her ride your thighs?” he inquired softly, smiling up at you both. 

You bit your lip, nodding happily as Danny smirked, “It’s like her favorite thing to do, why?”

Sam shrugged one shoulder, returning his eyes nonchalantly to his thigh. “Don’t blame her.” He suddenly leaned forward and gave a playful bite to the flesh before finishing, “It’d be my favorite thing too, I think.”

Danny smiled through a shaky inhale, “Oh yeah? You like my thighs, huh?”

Sam pinkened, nodding bashfully and running his hand up to the top of said thigh, thumbing at the V-line of Danny’s groin. “Always kinda thought so,” he confessed softly. 

Danny blushed, biting his lip shyly and forgoing a response. 

You pet your boyfriend’s hair, watching Sam brush his thumb against Danny’s length, where it lay against his belly patiently. Taking Danny’s cock in hand, his eyes fluttered up to meet Danny’s again, blushing but maintaining eye-contact as he brought his tongue up over the delicate slit. Danny shivered, chewing his lip. With a gentle sigh, Sam licked over Danny’s head, fanning his warm breath across the spit slicked skin. Danny muffled a groan in his throat, beginning to breath heavier. 

Finally, Sam glided Danny’s head past his lips, cushioning his heavy cock on his tongue as he enveloped it in his mouth. Danny’s brows shot up as his eyes closed, his head relaxing back against your thighs. You cupped his cheek lovingly, feeling like your breath was stolen at his expression of pure ecstasy as he panted, “Sam…” 

He whined, his face twisting like Sam’s mouth was the most blissful, erotic thing he’d ever felt. You were reminded of the first time Danny had taken you to bed, such a similar look on his face as he plunged himself into your warm wet walls for that very first time. As Danny’s head rolled to the side, pressing further against your palm, you gazed down at him in wonderous, lustful affection. “You’re so gorgeous, Danny,” you whispered, stroking a thumb over his cheekbone. 

Sam looked up at you both, and his eyes crinkled with a smile, the best one he could muster with his lips stretched around Danny’s impressive girth. 

Danny blushed, blinking his eyes open at you, his mossy hazel irises stunningly clear and radiant even around his dilated pupils. “Baby,” he whined under his breath, reaching up and pulling your face down to kiss him. 

You obliged happily, slotting your lips with his passionately, drinking in his moans and whimpers as Sam’s mouth shot sparks of pleasure through his body. He mumbled against your lips, his tone of submissive disbelief nearly making you pass out, “Feels so fucking good…”

You nodded, sealing his lips in another kiss, “Good, sweetheart, you just relax and feel, let Sammy make you feel good.”

Danny winced in pleasure, tensing and gasping as Sam sucked harder. He nodded a little, biting his lip up at you. 

Below you, Sam pulled off him for air. Quickly jerking Danny’s length in lieu of his mouth, he panted, looking up between you with a cheeky smile. “So not bad for a first blowjob?”

You giggled, shooting him an exasperated smile and shaking your head. “Danny’s not complaining anyway, huh, babe?” Glancing down at your boyfriend, he grunted in response, bucking into Sam’s fist. 

Sam cocked a smug eyebrow and smirked. “Bet I could make it even better.” He licked at Danny’s tip.

“Fuck,” Danny grit, looking down at him in disbelief. 

Sam met his eyes and wordlessly held up two fingers, eyebrows raising in question. 

Danny’s jaw dropped, staring at Sam’s fingers for a second before swallowing harshly and meeting Sam’s gaze again. 

He licked his lips, then gave a shy nod. “Yeah, o-okay.”

Sam smiled wide, confirming, “Yeah?”

Danny nodded again, his blush spreading across his cheeks as he gave a hesitant little grin.

Sam nodded back, bringing his fingers between his lips as he stroked away with his other hand. Breaking the eye contact, he glanced down, situating his hand carefully below Danny’s balls and leaning forward to take his head between his lips again. 

Danny whimpered, and using the distraction of pleasure, Sam circled his fingers around Danny’s hole, making Danny buck his hips and gasp. You soothed a hand over your boyfriend’s chest, petting his hair. “Shhh, relax baby boy, s’gonna feel so nice,” you smiled fondly. 

Danny visibly relaxed, nodding, and Sam took the cue to circle one finger once more before pushing it inside slowly. 

Danny’s jaw dropped open, “Ohh-“ 

You watched his face in awe as Sam suckled at his tip, teasing and licking around his head while his pointer finger curled deeper into his ass. Sam held his cock up with his free hand, pulling off to whisper, “God, you’re so tight, Danny, it’s so hot,” his breathy, wonderous tone making both you and Danny shudder. 

Sam descended a little lower, pulling his finger out and pushing back in slowly, starting up a steady careful rhythm. His mouth enveloped one of Danny’s balls at the same time, gently mouthing at it as he got his footing, fingering his friend’s hole. 

Danny groaned, flexing his fingers in a tight grip on your shoulder, arm stretched above his head as he panted and writhed. He jolted suddenly, Sam’s finger massaging in just the right spot inside. “Shit- oh, fffuck-“ 

Sam licked up the seam of his ballsack, continuing the wet trail all the way up the underside of his cock, keeping his finger steadily curling and thrusting into Danny’s ass. 

Danny arched his back, sweat beading along his hairline as his brows knit tightly. He blindly reached a hand down, grasping Sam’s hair in his growing desperation. “Sammy, I-“ he gasped, “I’m getting close, can you- fuck, can you do another?” 

Sam whimpered, nodding quickly, popping off to quickly say, “Anything, Daniel.” He pulled his finger out, then began pushing a second finger alongside the first. He moaned around Danny’s thickness, causing Danny’s back to arch off the bed with a drawn out, broken moan. 

“Oh my god, oh god, oh my fucking g- OH-“ Danny panted, his hips jerking erratically, his grip on your shoulder and in Sam’s hair tightening to a white-knuckled fist, slurring out praises and swears. “Fuuuuuck, pleasepleaseplease Sammy,” he begged, a breathless sob as Sam’s fingers curled against his prostate relentlessly. 

You whimpered softly, holding his pleasure-wracked face as he spilled into Sam’s mouth, “So good, baby, fuck, you’re so so good.” 

Sam gulped, gasping for air as he released Danny’s exhausted, softening cock from his mouth. He retracted his fingers, wincing at Danny’s trembling hiss. He kissed his thigh in apology, then crawled up to lie along Danny’s side as the fucked-out man came down from his high. 

You caught Sam’s eye across from Danny, and you leaned forward, a silent request. Sam smiled happily, meeting you easily in a gentle kiss. 

As you cradled your boyfriend’s head in your lap and hummed happily into Sam’s kiss, you thought to yourself, you could get used to this. 

Something in the boys' eyes told you they felt the same way.

-------- ⭐︎☽⭐︎☾⭐︎ --------

>>>Next chapter>>>

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[lakesandquarries]

Tangled Up - Chapter Two

oh, i’m gonna mess this up

Benrey’s spent 26 years living in a tower - 27, tomorrow. When a thief breaks into his tower, he finds his chance to escape and takes it.

Alternatively: Tangled, but the AI is self aware.

(featuring art by @kenas-artstuff​ )

Notes: check ao3 for warnings and tags! “kane radio” is just gordon using a fake name. fic title from “tangled up” by caro emerald, chapter title from “shots” by imagine dragons.

AO3 Link

It’s nice to be back at Black Mesa. Well, mostly nice. Gordon shuts the door behind Benrey only to immediately spot a wanted poster, the only thing making it unrecognizable a bizarre mullet. Do people seriously think he looks like that??

“Hey, Mr. Radio!” a voice calls from behind the counter. Kane rips the paper off the door, rushing across the room. 

“Hi Darnold it’s great to see you shut the fuck up please -”

And that’s when he gets grabbed from behind. He barely sees Darnold’s eyes widen before he’s spun around, now facing an absolute mountain of a man. Behind him, he hears Darnold slap something - his forehead, probably - and mutter a quiet. “oh, right.”

He loves Darnold, he really does. Being friends with someone since you were kids will do that. Right now, though, he kind of wants to throttle him.

“Kane Radio, hm?” the main holding him says, ripping the wanted poster out of his hands. The thief glances around awkwardly, his eyes finally falling onto Benrey struggling to pull his hair back into his possession. 

"H-hey, he'd appreciate his hair not being touched, guys!", Kane exclaimed, to help his partner as well as pull away from his attention. It works for a moment, as Benrey tugs the last strands of hair away and marches up to the guy holding Kane, unintimidated despite the height difference.

“Hey,” Benrey says quietly as he walks up next to the man. “Put him down? Please and thank you?”

Mountain man snorts. “Not likely. I need the reward money. Hey, you! Go get the guards!”

One of the other men nods, slipping out of the tavern as an argument breaks out. Kane is pushed and pulled, various thugs grabbing him and insisting they need the money, they deserve it most, as the bar descends into chaos.

A loud, meaty thwack! breaks up the argument. Kane’s dropped on his ass, and when he looks up, Benrey has his crowbar against Mountain man’s arm. “I said put him down.”

Kane rolls off to the side, dodging another man’s grabbing hands, and stands up so he can dart back over to Benrey and push him out of the way. “Hey, appreciate that, don’t get me wrong, but - Benrey, what the fuck?”

Behind the counter Darnold is glaring, grabbing a cup and a spoon to try and get everyone’s attention. Black Mesa housed a fighting ring once upon a time, but that got stopped when Darnold took over. It doesn’t matter now - even with Darnold yelling, everyone’s too riled up. Kane has to duck down to avoid a punch, only to immediately get kicked in the face. A hand grabs his arm and he swings instinctively, stopping at the last second when he realizes it’s just Benrey, pulling him off to the side.

“What the fuck,” Kane repeats.

“Being polite didn’t work,” is Benrey’s only explanation.

Darnold is still yelling, trying desperately to get some sense of calm as the crowd beats the shit out of each other. And then - just as quick as it started, it’s over. Screams dissolve into laughter as the assembled patrons dust themselves off, seemingly satisfied with the amount of violence they've had. 

"It's been too long since we've had a fight like that," Mountain man says. "Nice job."

Benrey blinks up at him. "Whuh?"

Gordon agrees with him. Wiping blood from his nose, he mutters a quiet “What?” as well.

“Should’ve been longer,” Darnold complains. “You know I hate this kind of behavior! I have half a mind to throw you all out.”

"We'll clean it up, Danny, don't worry,” another, very skinny guy cheerfully responds, followed by a roar of laughter.

“Darnold,” the bartender corrects sharply as he sets to cleaning the place up, picking up overturned chairs and mopping up spills and sweeping up broken glass. 

Turning back to Mountain man, Kane asks, "Just to be clear. Does this mean you won't tear me and my friend apart anymore?"

“Are you kidding? That’s the most fun I’ve had in years! Darnold never lets us do stuff like that. Real shame, considering how this place st -“

He’s cut off by someone slamming the door open. “I brought the guards!”

Apparently ten seconds of peace is the max he’s allowed. “Shit shit shit,” Kane wheezes, grabbing Benrey’s arm as Darnold directs them behind the door. The massive dog from earlier, the one who had chased him through the forest and up Benrey’s tower, is here. And it’s pissed. Kane’s heart drops as he watches it sniff around, following the trail of his footsteps.

Darnold pulls on a lever, revealing a ramp down into a stone tunnel. “You’re lucky you’re my friend,” he says as he ushers them through it. Benrey hesitates, but Kane pulls him through anyway, into some kind of cave system. The walls are dark stone, rough and natural. This is something old, and hopefully, it’ll cover them. 

He exhales slowly, adrenaline still rushing through him. “Shit,” he mutters again. “That was close.”

“Who were those guys?” Benrey asks. The raccoon on his shoulder chirps.

“Guards. Royal guards. They, uh….they don’t like me much.”

“You stole something?” 

“Big something.”

Benrey nods, apparently satisfied with the answer. The raccoon chirps again, and Benrey mumbles something in response to it. Because his day is just going so normally, he needs to listen to his weird...escort mission talk to his fucking raccoon as they run from guards.

Metal clanks behind them, and Kane picks up the pace, until he’s running down the tunnel. It opens into a cliffside, with no way down. “Fuck!”

“There’s a guy down there,” Benrey points out, and Kane bites back another string of curses when he realizes it’s fucking Forzen. He’d abandoned him after stealing the royal helmet. Betrayal’s nothing new between them, but this is recent enough that Forzen’s probably still pissed.

“That’s Forzen. He doesn’t like me much either.”

It’s then that the guards burst out of the tunnel and several things happen all at once. Benrey shoves his crowbar at Kane, and before he can question why Benrey is giving him his only weapon, he’s tossing his hair across the canyon like a grappling hook and running off the ledge.

Before he can even ask why Benrey would possibly give him his only weapon, he watches in horror as his partner takes flight. He doesn’t have time to check if Benrey’s alright - the guards are on his ass. The crowbar makes a satisfying thwack! as he swings it, taking down the guards in barely an instant. “Fuck, this is handy. Need to get me one of these!” Kane comments to himself, looking to see who’s left. One opponent remains - the dog, who is now holding a sword.

Because his day just cannot get any fucking weirder.

“You should know this is the weirdest thing I have ever fucking done!” Kane yells to Benrey, as he battles the dog, sword to crowbar, until the dog knocks it right out of his hands and down the cliff. “Two out of three?”

A lock of black hair wraps around his hand. Kane grins, giving the dog a salute as he’s pulled into a free fall. “Ha! Get fuc - hhhh.” His words dissolve into a wheeze, as his trajectory slams him into an exposed beam, knocking the wind out of him.

Kane, struggling to get a grip of himself, only just manages to hold on to Benrey while he swings down with his support. His feet connect with the water pipes, sliding down unsteadily as they collapse underneath him, and then the entire dam breaks. It happens in a flash, an enormous amount of water - it feels like the whole ocean when Kane glances back - pouring down into the valley. Rocks fall, the last of the wooden constructions collapsing. With a couple of leaps, Kane reaches an already running Benrey, and scoops up the last bit of his hair flailing behind him. "Benrey! Benrey, into the cave!" he shouts, hoping the other would get understand the general direction they have to run.

---

Benrey grabs the crowbar as he darts after Kane, barely avoiding getting crushed by the massive rock that comes crashing down and seals them into the cave. The walls are stone, not like the bricks of his tower but a random arrangement of rocks and boulders forming a lumpy wall. There’s a puddle of water on the floor, only as he looks it starts to grow, up over Benrey’s feet, his legs, creeping higher and higher. He looks around the cave frantically, spotting the trickles of water coming in past the rock that sealed them in. The only obvious opening, but the water is like another force behind it, pressing it shut like Benrey used to try and hold his door shut. The rock is stronger than him. No matter how hard he slams with his crowbar, there’s not even a dent. He turns his attention to the rest of the cave, alternately smashing and prying at the walls, but they hold firm. There’s nothing. Not a single loose rock, nothing resembling a weak point, not even a crack he can widen into an exit. 

The water’s at his waist now. His breathing sharpens, small panicked inhales as he realizes there’s no way out. They’re trapped, with water climbing higher and higher. The water is murky, making the already dim space feel smaller and darker with each second. 

Zeki was right. Kane’s gonna die here with him in this stupid fucking cave, all because Benrey wanted to see some lights.

“This is all my fault,” he mumbles, tugging on a strand of hair. “I never should’ve - she was right, this whole time, I just -“ 

Kane’s hands grip his shoulders, firm but gentle, forcing him to look at the thief’s face. "Benrey, don't blame yourself. Sometimes things go bad...that's how life works. It's - it's gonna be ok." In a different context it might be comforting. Right now, they’re about to die, and Kane’s voice is shaking.

Benrey’s voice is choked when he responds. “I’m sorry, Kane.”

"Gordon.” Benrey tilts his head, and Kane drops his hands from his shoulders with a sigh. “It's - my real name is Gordon Freeman. I made up Kane. You might as well know it now."

“Feetman?” Benrey asks with a shaky smile.

“If we weren’t trapped in a cave I’d hit you with your crowbar,” Kane - Gordon? - Gordon says. For the briefest of seconds, he smiles at Benrey. 

“I, uh. I have magic hair that glows when I sing,” he says. Keeping a secret doesn’t matter when they’re both about to die. Gordon furrows his brows, looking questioningly at Benrey, and a sudden burst of inspiration hits as he repeats himself. “I have - oh shit!” He starts singing, voice shakier than normal as he races through the song. “Flower gleam and glow, let your power shine -“ The water is still rising, and maybe it’s his imagination but it feels even faster. “Make the clock reverse, bring back what once was mine -”

The last line gets cut off as the water fills the cave completely. He’s never tried singing underwater before, and for a moment he’s terrified it won’t work - and then his hair lights up, a bright neon teal, illuminating the cave. Gordon swims down to the bottom, pushing aside rocks desperately. He finds one that’s loose enough, dislodging it, and the rest follow suit. The wall starts to crumble before collapsing completely, launching the two of them into a river, the current quickly sweeping them downstream and onto a grassy bank. 

Benrey drags himself out, flopping limply onto the grass, taking deep breaths as he stares up at the sky. “We’re alive,” he breathes, looking over at Gordon. He likes that name better, now that he has a spare moment to think about it. Laughter bubbles up out of him, along with bright yellow-green. Olive means I’m glad to be alive.

Beside him, Gordon is less chill, elbows on the grass and hands in his hair. “His hair glows,” he’s mumbling. “He - hhh - his hair? Glowing - glowy shit - people don’t glow!” From there his words just get more and more incoherent as he stares at the ground.

With a huff, Benrey stands up, starting to squeeze the water out of his hair. Jefferem shakes himself dry, splashing water onto Gordon. “You good?” Benrey asks.

“Am I - are you good?? What the fuck was that? How long have you been - ow, fuck -” He pulls his right hand close to himself, and when he holds it out again Benrey sees blood, bright red against the brown skin. He must’ve cut himself on a rock or something. 

Benrey offers a hand to help Gordon get up, so he doesn’t put pressure on the injured one. “Lets, uh. Find somewhere to dry off first and then we can play 20 questions?” Or, maybe, if he stalls long enough, Gordon will forget whatever he wants to ask and Benrey can keep pretending like he’s a person.