#steve&danny

[loveatfirstfight5-0]

https://archiveofourown.org/works/63876136

Just a little something inspired by this pic and the prompt of the month :

"What are you doing with that?"

Tactical claiming

It’s not like Danny cares. He’s used to it by now—Steve and his complete inability to keep a shirt on for longer than necessary. Scratch that. Longer than five damn minutes.

At first, Danny thought maybe it was a Hawaii thing, something about the heat, the ocean, the whole island vibe that made Steve allergic to fabric. But no, it’s a Steve thing. A habit. Like running into danger without backup, staring at Danny like he’s the crazy one for worrying, and, apparently, treating his T-shirt like it’s optional at any given moment.

So, yeah, Danny is used to it. He doesn’t flinch when Steve peels it off post-surf, mid-workout, hell—even when he’s just standing around in HQ. It’s not a thing.

Until it is.

Because Danny can deal with Steve being Steve. He can deal with Steve parading around like he’s starring in some kind of action-movie montage. But what Danny cannot deal with is other people reacting to it.

And right now?

Right now, some guy at their current crime scene is definitely reacting.

Danny sees him from the corner of his eye, the way the guy’s mouth is slightly open, eyes glued to Steve’s torso like he just stumbled onto the lost city of gold. And Steve—oblivious as ever—stands there, casually holding his discarded T-shirt like he forgot he even took it off.

Danny narrows his eyes. Then, before he even fully processes it, he’s saying,

“What are you doing with that?”

Steve looks up, confused. “What?”

Danny gestures at the shirt in Steve’s hand. “Your shirt. Put it back.”

Steve blinks. “Why? I was just gon—”

“I said put it back.”

Steve frowns but does as he’s told, dragging the fabric over his head with a wary look. “Okay, okay. Relax, would ya? What’s the matter with you?”

“Nothing is the matter with me,” Danny shoots back, even as his heart pounds in his chest. “It’s you here, always showing up, always—can’t you stay clothed for one damn minute?”

Steve lifts his hands in surrender, but his face is all puzzled amusement. “Okay, okay. Jeez. What is this about, Danno?”

Danny doesn’t answer immediately. His eyes flick to the guy—who is still gawking, by the way—then back to Steve.

And suddenly, the words just happen.

Danny steps forward, barely brushing his fingers against Steve’s freshly re-donned T-shirt, giving it a small, decisive tug just on his torso, to make sure it’s really on.

“Because, Steven,” he says, his voice steady, “I decided you’re my boyfriend.”

Steve freezes. “Oh…you decided?”

Danny nods, completely unbothered. “Yep.”

Steve’s eyebrows shoot up, but he doesn’t step back. If anything, he leans in slightly, the hint of a smirk forming. “And when exactly did you make this decision?”

Danny shrugs. “Right about the time I saw that guy over there looking at you like he was about to devour you.”

Steve follows Danny’s gaze, taking in the still-staring dude, and something clicks in his expression. His smirk widens into something smug, something pleased.

“Ohhh,” he drawls. “I see.”

Danny glares. “Yeah, well, wipe that look off your face.”

“Why?” Steve asks, tilting his head. “You jealous, Danno?”

Danny scoffs. “I just said you’re my boyfriend, didn’t I?”

Steve considers that, then grins. “Yeah. You did.”

Danny sighs, rubbing a hand over his face. “Yeah, okay, maybe I regret it already.”

But he doesn’t move away. And neither does Steve. And if Steve’s hand brushes against Danny’s when he adjusts his shirt, well—Danny pretends not to notice.

For now.

Steve’s grin lingers, that smug, satisfied look that makes Danny’s blood pressure rise on a good day—and today? Today is not a good day, because now, Danny has gone and done something absolutely insane.

He just claimed Steve.

Out loud.

In front of witnesses.

Like a damn lunatic.

“Alright,” Danny mutters, stepping back, forcing some distance between them before he does something even dumber, like actually grabbing Steve by the shirt and—nope. Nope. Not thinking about that. “Back to work, Commander. Less flexing, more detecting.”

But Steve doesn’t move. He’s still looking at Danny, head tilted slightly, eyes crinkled at the edges in that infuriating way that usually precedes some kind of smart-ass remark.

“Danno,” Steve says, voice suspiciously gentle. “You sure you don’t wanna talk about—”

“Nope.” Danny spins on his heel, already heading toward the evidence markers. “Case. Crime. Dead body. Focus.”

Steve huffs a laugh but, mercifully, follows. The gawking guy is still hovering, watching them, but now there’s something different in the way he looks at Steve. He’s hesitant, almost nervous.

Danny smirks. Yeah, that’s right, buddy. Move along. Steve’s taken.

Wait.

Wait.

Danny blinks, nearly stopping in his tracks. What the hell did he just think?

“Danno?” Steve is suddenly at his side, leaning in a little too close, voice all faux concern. “You okay? You look—what’s the word? Flustered?”

Danny’s entire body bristles. “Oh, go to hell, Steven.”

Steve just grins. “Aww. Don’t be mad, babe.”

Danny glares. “I will shoot you.”

Steve hums. “Mm. But you won’t.”

Danny levels him with a look. “Try me.”

Steve, being the insufferable pain that he is, just throws an arm around Danny’s shoulders, all casual-like, as if they do this all the time. Like it’s normal.

Danny huffs, but he doesn’t shake him off.

Danny tells himself he’s letting Steve get away with this—the arm, the smugness, the whole damn thing—because they’re at a crime scene. Because it would be unprofessional to shove him off in front of HPD. Because they have actual work to do.

It’s definitely not because Steve’s arm is warm against his shoulders, or because, for some reason, it feels right.

Nope. Not thinking about that.

“Alright,” Danny grumbles, shrugging Steve off just enough to get them back on track. “Let’s focus, shall we? You remember? The reason we’re here? Murder investigation? Dead guy?”

Steve sighs, putting on his best I’m a serious professional face. “Fine. Let’s check the perimeter.”

Danny steps ahead, grateful for the brief reprieve from Steve’s presence, but of course, it doesn’t last. Because two minutes later, Steve is right there again, trailing behind him like a damn shadow.

“So,” Steve says casually, hands on his hips, “since I’m apparently your boyfriend now—”

Danny groans. “Oh my God, shut up.”

“—I just think it’s important we establish some ground rules.”

Danny whirls on him, jabbing a finger into his chest. “First of all, I did not say boyfriend in a general, romantic sense, okay? It was a tactical decision. A crime scene necessity.”

Steve nods, all faux seriousness. “Right. A tactical claiming.”

Danny scowls. “Do not use that word.”

Steve’s lips twitch like he’s barely holding back laughter. “Whatever you say, babe.”

Danny exhales slowly, pinching the bridge of his nose. “You know what? I take it back. You’re not my boyfriend.”

Steve shrugs. “Fine. But that guy over there still thinks I am.”

Danny glares at the guy—who, sure enough, is still throwing lingering looks in Steve’s direction.

He huffs. Crosses his arms. Shifts his weight.

Then he sighs, defeated.

“Fine,” he mutters.

Steve grins, victorious. “That’s what I thought.”

Danny points a warning finger at him. “One more ‘babe’ and I swear—”

“Got it,” Steve says, but his smile says otherwise.

Danny rolls his eyes, muttering under his breath as he turns back to the crime scene.

Steve, the menace, follows, still grinning.

Danny tells himself he’s letting this go. He is. He’s moving on, because there’s an actual homicide to solve, and he’s not about to let Steve “Tactical Shirt Removal” McGarrett get in his head any more than he already has.

But then Steve—because of course Steve—leans in again, voice all low and smug.

“So, just to be clear,” he murmurs, “are we talking, like, exclusive boyfriend status, or—”

Danny whirls on him, again, because apparently, his entire day is just going to be him reacting to Steve being Steve.

“Oh my God, Steven. This is not a relationship discussion.”

Steve tilts his head, all faux innocence. “It’s not?”

Danny clenches his jaw. “It’s not.”

Steve hums like he’s considering it, then glances—again—at the guy who is still sneaking looks in their direction.

“So, if I took my shirt off again—”

Danny jabs a finger into his chest. “I will murder you. Right here. On top of the other dead body.”

Steve grins. “So, exclusive, then?”

Danny exhales sharply through his nose, glares at him, and then—because there is no other way to make this stop—grabs Steve’s stupid, smug face and kisses him.

It’s meant to be a statement. A final word. But Steve—because he is the worst—makes a soft, pleased noise, and suddenly, his hands are curling around Danny’s waist, pulling him in, and oh, shit…

For one, maybe two seconds, Danny’s brain freezes, and he melts into it because… Hell!

But then—

Danny yanks back, eyes wide, looking everywhere around them.

HPD. The crime scene. The dead body.

Steve just smirks at him, looking entirely too satisfied.

Danny tightens his grip on Steve’s shirt, practically shaking him.

“Okay,” Danny breathes, voice low but deadly. “We are in a fucking crime scene, with all of HPD around us. You never do that again!”

Steve’s smirk does not waver. “Uh-huh. And which part, exactly, am I not supposed to do again? The kissing? Or the part where I kissed you back?”

Danny growls—actually growls—and shoves him back.

“I swear to God, Steven,” he mutters, rubbing his face like that’s somehow going to erase the last 30 seconds from existence.

Steve grins, stepping way too close again. “Relax, babe. It’s not like anyone saw.”

Danny glares, jabbing a finger in his direction. “I hate you.”

Steve chuckles. “Yeah? You kiss all the people you hate?”

Danny throws his hands in the air and stomps away, ignoring the way Steve is definitely watching him go.

Behind him, Steve murmurs, smug and smugger,

“Don’t worry, babe. I’ll keep my shirt on. For now.”

💙👕💙

https://archiveofourown.org/works/63876136

[loveatfirstfight5-0]

Inspiration of the day :

Hope this is okay with the artist

Infinity

Steve wakes up slowly, awareness coming in layers—the warmth of the morning light filtering through the curtains, the scent of coffee in the air, the weight of something familiar and new all at once. Danny.

The memories hit next, a slow, steady tide rolling in—Danny’s hands on him, the sound of his voice, the way he had fit so perfectly against him. The way they had moved together, like they had been waiting for this all along.

Steve exhales, dragging a hand over his face as reality settles in. He should be panicking. Maybe a part of him is. But mostly, what he feels is right. Like something in him has finally clicked into place.

The sound of movement draws him out of bed, and he finds Danny in the kitchen, mug in hand, his free hand rubbing absently at his stomach.

And oh, hell.

Steve leans against the doorframe for a second, taking in the sight before him.

Danny, standing there in his T-shirt—too big, hanging loose, exposing just enough of his stomach to make Steve’s mouth go dry. His hair is a mess, his skin is still marked with faint traces of Steve’s hands, and damn, if that isn’t the best thing Steve has ever seen.

A slow, smug grin spreads across his face.

Danny hasn’t noticed him yet, which is fine, because Steve is more than happy to just stand here and enjoy the view. The way Danny’s fingers curl around the coffee mug, the way he shifts his weight slightly, the way his lips purse after he takes a sip—like he’s already irritated about something. Perfect.

And Steve—well, Steve is feeling very good this morning.

He pushes off the doorframe and crosses the room, moving with purpose.

Danny startles slightly when Steve’s hands find his waist, his fingers slipping under the hem of the shirt, sliding against warm skin like he belongs there.

“Morning to you too,” Danny mutters, though there’s no real heat behind it.

Steve hums against his neck, pressing a slow, open-mouthed kiss to the spot just beneath his ear. “You look good in my shirt,” he murmurs, voice still heavy with sleep, thick with something else.

Danny lets out a breath, his body relaxing against Steve’s, tilting his head slightly, just enough to give him more access.

“That so?” Danny says, and Steve can hear the smirk in his voice.

Steve grins, dragging his hands over Danny’s stomach, his fingers teasing at the hem of the shirt, slipping just a little lower, just to feel him squirm.

Danny huffs, takes another sip of coffee like he’s not affected, but his breath catches when Steve’s hands move again, fingers pressing just hard enough to make his point.

“You sleep okay?” Steve asks, his voice deceptively casual as he nudges Danny’s hair aside and brushes his lips against the sensitive skin behind his ear.

Danny makes a noise, low and pleased, like maybe this is what he wanted from the start.

“Didn’t get much sleep,” Danny mutters, though there’s no real complaint in it.

Steve chuckles, hands tightening just slightly, just enough to remind Danny exactly why he didn’t get much sleep. “You saying I kept you up?”

Danny sighs dramatically, leaning back against him fully now, one hand coming up to rest over Steve’s on his stomach. “I’m saying I was manhandled.”

Steve smirks, pressing his hips just a little closer. “Didn’t hear you complaining.”

Danny huffs but tilts his head back, eyes meeting Steve’s, warm and full of something real.

“You gonna let me drink my coffee or what?”

Steve grins, nudging Danny’s ear with his nose, pressing one last slow, teasing kiss to the side of his neck before pulling back slightly—just enough to let Danny breathe, but not nearly enough to let go.

His hands keep moving, slow and lazy, tracing every inch of skin they can reach. Because he can. Because he’s never letting this go.

Danny exhales, shifting in his grip just enough to face him fully. “You okay?”

Steve swallows. Nods.

Danny huffs, shaking his head. “Right. Because that was convincing.”

Steve exhales, his hands still moving in slow, lazy circles over Danny’s skin, like stopping would mean losing this, losing him. And he can’t—he won’t.

So he just says it. Not with fanfare, not with some dramatic declaration, but with the simple, quiet truth of it.

"I'm gonna make this last forever."

Danny stills for a second, then sets his coffee down, eyes locked onto Steve’s.

Steve holds his gaze. Doesn’t flinch.

"Don't tell me it's impossible."

Danny’s throat bobs. His hands slide up, gripping Steve’s wrists, like he needs something to hold onto.

Steve shakes his head, voice steady.

"‘Cause I love you ..."

Danny lets out a breath—shaky, almost a laugh.

"I love you for infinity.”

He tugs Steve forward, pressing their foreheads together, his hands gripping him like he’s afraid to let go.

“You really need to stop listening to sappy music,” Danny mutters, voice rough.

Steve grins, relief flooding through him like a tide. “Not a chance.”

Danny tilts his chin up, presses his mouth to Steve’s—soft and lingering, but with just enough teeth to promise more.

“Good,” Danny murmurs, lips brushing against Steve’s. “Because I love you for infinity, too.”

https://archiveofourown.org/works/63827116

“I’m gonna make this last forever  Don’t tell me it’s impossible  'Cause I love you for infinity  I love you for infinity” (с) Jaymes Young - Infinity

[papiliomame]

‘Danny Phantom’ Series Developer Steve Marmel ‘Always Imagined’ Danny Died In Ghost Portal Accident That Gave Him His Powers

I'm suprised no one posted this here yet. An interesting interview about what could have been if it was an adult show ( quote from the article):

“If it was an older show, it absolutely would have been Danny hanging on to his mortal coil for both selfish reasons and the people he loved,” Marmel continues. “But [when you’re making a] kids’ show you don't want to go, ‘Hey kids! Good morning! Here’s mortality!’ Butch has his own backstory — it’s in the song! — and that’s canon. But in my head, it allowed me to write Danny with a little more depth than just, 'I'm inexperienced and sometimes dumb!’ No, you’re grabbing life by the horns because you've already experienced what it's like to not be a part of it.”

[sunarryn]

DP X Marvel #25

Danny Fenton hadn’t meant to punch Captain America in the face. In fact, he’d spent the better part of the week trying not to punch anyone, despite the rapidly growing laundry list of reasons to lose his cool—like not sleeping for seventy-two hours because Technus decided to merge his data with every Bluetooth speaker in the tri-state area, or the GIW tracking his every move again, or that weird, suspicious portal energy he kept picking up from somewhere labeled Stark Tower. Danny was running on fumes, ghostly adrenaline, and one too many Red Bulls when it happened. Really, the stars aligned perfectly for an international incident.

He’d only been in New York for six hours, trying to find the source of the energy spike without alerting every superhero on the block—because the last thing he needed was to get into it with the Avengers. Again. The last time had involved Hulk trying to punch a ghost and failing miserably, Thor throwing Mjölnir into the Ghost Zone, and Iron Man demanding to know if ectoplasm was FDA approved. It was a whole thing.

Danny was crouched on the rooftop of some high-rise, scanning with a modified Fenton Specter-Tracker, eyes bloodshot and twitching slightly. He hadn’t slept since Monday. It was Thursday.

“Hey, kid,” came a voice behind him, calm but firm.

Danny spun like a feral cat, eyes glowing, hair frizzed out with ghost static. He registered the silhouette of a man—tall, broad-shouldered, carrying a star-shaped shield—and his brain went danger. Ghost hunter? No. GIW agent? No. Super-soldier-hydra-time-travel-experiment?

He didn’t even process it. He just swung.

There was a crack like a thunderclap, followed by the very human sound of pain—a grunt that broke mid-voice like it had surprised the man himself. Captain Steve Rogers staggered back, hand pressed to his jaw, blinking stars out of his vision and trying to comprehend the fact that someone had just hit him hard enough to make him feel it. Not just feel it—wince. His serum-enhanced, war-hardened, literally-punched-by-Thor-once jaw hurt.

Danny stood frozen, fist still outstretched, pupils blown wide in horror.

“Oh my God. Oh my God. I just punched Captain America. I just decked the star-spangled man with a plan. I am so sorry—I thought you were a ghost! Or like—a time-traveling war criminal! Wait, that’s redundant—”

“Okay, wow,” Steve mumbled, touching his jaw again. “That’s definitely gonna bruise.”

Danny looked like he was about to combust. “Why were you behind me like that?! Who just materializes out of nowhere and says ‘hey, kid�� in the middle of a rooftop stakeout?! I thought I was being ambushed!”

Steve blinked. “I was asking for directions.”

Danny gasped. “You were WHAT?”

Steve looked sheepish. “Tony dropped me off on the wrong building. Said, and I quote, ‘GPS is for cowards.’ I’ve been circling the same three blocks for twenty minutes.”

Danny stared. “Captain America got lost and asked a sleep-deprived half-ghost teenager for directions?”

“I didn’t know you were a sleep-deprived half-ghost teenager,” Steve said defensively. “You looked… competent. Specter-tracker aside.”

Danny made a strangled noise and sat down hard, face buried in his hands. “I’m going to be assassinated by your PR team.”

Steve rubbed his jaw again. “You’re stronger than you look.”

“That is not the point here!”

“No, seriously,” Steve insisted, kneeling down. “That punch? I’ve taken hits from Thanos. You rattled me.”

Danny peeked through his fingers. “Are you flirting with me?”

“What? No!”

“You’re complimenting my punch like it’s a pickup line.”

“I’m—okay, no. You’re a kid.”

“I’m nineteen!”

Steve squinted. “You look like you’ve been through five timelines and one midlife crisis.”

“I have!” Danny wailed. “Do you know what it’s like to babysit the entire ghost population of the afterlife and then accidentally elbow Thor in the ribs during a training session because you forgot he was behind you?! I’m a walking international crisis!”

Steve paused. “Wait. You trained with Thor?”

“Long story. I died once, came back, now I punch ghosts for fun and may or may not be legally considered a WMD by six governments.”

Steve took a long breath. “Do all teenagers do this now? Or is this just a… you thing?”

Danny groaned. “Just me. I’m special.”

Steve lowered his shield and sat cross-legged like they were about to have a heart-to-heart. “You okay, kid?”

“No! I haven’t slept in three days, my enemies keep possessing animatronics to scare me, and I just committed accidental patriotic assault!”

Steve tried not to smile. He really did. “You got a name?”

Danny sighed. “Danny. Danny Fenton. Or Phantom. Depends on how you know me.”

Steve looked intrigued. “You’re the ghost kid.”

Danny flinched. “I prefer ghost young adult, thank you.”

“You’re the one Nick Fury won’t shut up about.”

Danny’s eyes widened. “He talks about me?”

“Nonstop. Every meeting. ‘The ghost kid leveled a tank with his pinky finger!’ ‘The ghost kid opened a portal to another dimension with a yawn!’” Steve did a passable impression of Fury’s gruff voice. “‘You think your team’s strong? Try containing a seventeen-year-old who talks to the dead like it’s a podcast!’”

Danny laughed, a bit unhinged, definitely sleep-deprived. “I did do the tank thing. That was an accident.”

“Fury thinks you’re the future.”

“That’s horrifying.”

“You’re not wrong.”

Danny looked at him warily. “Are you gonna try to recruit me?”

Steve considered. “Honestly? Not until you’ve slept. You look like you’d punch Thor if he asked you for coffee.”

“I have, and I did, and he was proud of me.”

“…Of course he was.”

There was a moment of silence, just the city humming beneath them, both of them sitting cross-legged like two war veterans who somehow found themselves on a rooftop in Manhattan instead of the battlefield they were clearly built for.

“So,” Steve said eventually. “You gonna tell me why you’re camped out here?”

Danny pointed to the tracker. “Someone in that building”—he gestured vaguely toward Stark Tower—“is leaking interdimensional ghost radiation like it’s designer cologne. I was trying to be subtle.”

Steve looked at the tower. “That’s Tony.”

Danny blinked. “Tony Stark is radiating ectoplasmic energy?”

“Yeah. He bought a ghost portal off eBay last month. Said it’d be good for ‘multiverse surveillance.’ It… got loose.”

Danny stood up so fast he swayed. “I knew it! I told Jazz that someone was messing with rogue ghost portals again and she said I was paranoid! I am paranoid! But that doesn’t mean I’m wrong!”

“You’re… very high-strung.”

Danny glared. “Do you have a collection of alternate-universe versions of yourself constantly trying to kill you?”

Steve held up his hands. “Fair.”

Suddenly, Danny wobbled. His legs buckled, and Steve caught him with a grunt. “Woah, hey, hey! Okay, that’s enough hero time for now.”

“I’m fine,” Danny slurred. “I’ve just been awake for three days. It’s not a problem unless I—”

He passed out.

Steve stared down at the kid—a half-dead, glowing teen who apparently punched like a demigod and talked like a sitcom character on speed—and muttered, “…Tony owes me so much alcohol for this.”

He slung Danny over his shoulder and started walking toward the Tower.

A few floors down, Tony Stark looked up from his holograms and blinked as the elevator pinged open.

Steve walked in carrying what looked like a sleep-dead raccoon in human form.

Tony blinked. “Did you adopt a raccoon?”

“He punched me.”

Tony raised an eyebrow. “…You?”

“Knocked me back five feet.”

Tony whistled. “Damn. Strong raccoon.”

“He’s nineteen. Name’s Danny Fenton. Ghost kid.”

Tony’s eyes widened. “Oh. Oh. The one Fury thinks is a nuclear bomb with social anxiety.”

Steve dumped Danny on the nearest couch. “Let him sleep. He earned it.”

Tony looked down at Danny. “Should I be worried he’s glowing?”

“No. But maybe hide the ghost portal.”

Tony scoffed. “I knew someone was tracking it.”

Danny stirred, groaning, “Stark, I swear to the Ancients, if I wake up and your toaster is haunted again, I’m putting salt in your arc reactor…”

Steve stared. “Wait, what?”

Tony sighed. “Long story. Ghosts don’t like me. Something about my attitude.”

Steve sat down, already dreading explaining this to Fury.

Across the room, Danny turned on his side, mumbled, “Tell the Captain I didn’t mean to punch him…”

Steve looked over, surprisingly fond. “It’s fine, kid. I’ve had worse.”

Danny let out a soft snore.

Tony grinned. “You’re getting soft.”

“He reminds me of Bucky.”

Tony choked. “Excuse me?”

Steve shrugged. “If Bucky died and came back with ghost powers, he’d absolutely punch me in the face for fun.”

“…Okay, yeah, that tracks.”

And thus began the weird, wonderful, mildly catastrophic journey of Danny Fenton, ghost boy, menace to the Avengers, and accidental best friend to Captain America, who still rubbed his jaw now and then, remembering the punch that nearly knocked out a super-soldier’s tooth.

[shaunashipman]

STEVE MCGARRETT & DANNY WILLIAMS Hawaii Five-0 “Hana Komo Pae”

[loveatfirstfight5-0]

Well... it seems that this sentence wouldn't leave my mind so here we are...

A little one-shot with the prompt "First Kiss" from the " Year of OTP 2025 challenge" for the "H50 Ohana"

Hope you liked it 💜

I cling to you

Summary : After a brutal day, Danny finds himself at Steve’s house. What starts as venting turns into a conversation neither of them was ready for, but maybe always needed.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/61987171

McDanno - I cling to you / Someday you’re going to meet someone that makes you happy. Makes you feel beautiful and stands by you even when you feel like you don’t deserve them 💋💯❤️

[mrbrrop]

Why McDanno from Hawaii 5-0 is an incredible and insane ship :

• Always calling each other babe (which yeah, for danny why not? He calls everyone babe (mostly Steve though)). But Steve he only calls Danny babe

• Constantly going on dates (like it's rarely justified as case related, sometimes the ep just starts and they're just hiking or fishing or whatever for no specific reason)

• The CONSTANT touching (I think there are multiple compilations on tumblr of just them touching each other, like them cuddling on the couch or Steve caressing Danny's neck, or Danny slapping Steve’s ass, or the regular bicep grab or torso slap)

• The I Love You's (which are only justified as platonic with I Love You, bro or I Love You man (sometimes not even that))

• The spanish "Te amo" instead of "Te quiero" translation

• "You're my Danno" (like what?)

• The whole fact that the show starts on the premis that 2.5 min after meeting Danny, Steve just changes his whole life trajectory and accepts to run a task force he didn't even want in the first place

• The usual "Basically raising a kid together" thing (Well 2 kids in their case)

• Steve mentioning that he loves Danny very much and is kind of married to him whilst he's on date with a woman

• The Carguments (they literally coined the term (I think?))

• The sharing organs thing (There was no hesitation just "here take a piece of my liver!")

• The Couple's Therapy (literal couple's therapy, Steve "misread" the pamphlet or whatever (which had a couple piggyback riding on it))

• The constant clocking of the characters ("are you talking to your wife"; "they in love again"; "I don't understand, I thought they weren't together?"; "How long have you two been married?"; "ok you two lovebirds" etc etc..)

• The buying a restaurant together (but it being a clear metaphor for marriage and the characters constantly comparing it to a marriage or referencing it like it's a marriage)

• The always entering each other's houses without knocking

• The eye fucking

• "I would have gone with the gay thing.. to you know keep our covers"

• "I'll give you a hug, I'll give you a kiss, pick a base"

• Steve caressing Danny's hand and arm

• "What are you wearing?" said over the phone

• Steve remembering exactly when they met to the minute

• "If I didn't put my finger inside of you, we wouldn't be having this conversation right now!"

• Them dancing together at Kono's wedding (+"you don't have to dance with me tonight" at Max's goodbye party)

• Danny comparing himself being worried about Steve to Tani being worried about Junior when it is heavily implied that Tani & Junior are in love

• Steve being more interested in watching a movie than making out with his girlfriend (+Plus always getting interrupted by Danny and ending up cuddling with him)

• Steve comparing himself to Danny's ex wife (After getting offended that Danny didn't consider him when making retirement plans because he just assumed it was agreed that they would spend the rest of their lives together)

• Just vibes atp

From here on out, it's mostly the actors doing things, but..

• The almost kissing blooper

• The "You've got the best ass and it's hanging out of a truck" blooper

• The fact that the actors were both on board (if I was told correctly) but that the showrunner was an absolute dick

[aashiqeddiediaz]

actually, you were expressing yourself in a very loud manner. hey, zip it, kermit, okay? have you lost your mind?

— hawaii five-0, 2x01, ha'i'ole (unbreakable)

[loveatfirstfight5-0]

Some cute AI generated "art".... 💜🥰💜

[loveatfirstfight5-0]

Welcome to my new story...this gifs were grandly responsible for this 😍💜

Summary : What started as a simple arrangement—a fake marriage meant to help Steve with an adoption process—quickly turns into something much more complex. As Steve and Danny navigate their new roles, pretending becomes harder, and real emotions begin to surface, changing everything they thought they knew about love, family, and themselves.

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Hope you like it 😃

[shehungthemoon]

To this day it blows my mind that steady soldier Steve McGarrett came back to the Islands with one mission: to bury his father, hunt down the man that murdered him, and then go right back to his station with the SEALs. Steve was in his military prime, a promise of a long career ahead of him, not a single thing left in Hawaii to keep him tethered there. He only took the 5-0 job to regain control of his revenge as quickly as possible.

And then he met Danny Williams.

And somewhere in the course of about an hour, he flipped his entire life on its head and decided to actually stay, and rebuild an entire life from the ground up with that man instead.

[kinda-ok]

This scene is my Roman Empire because you can’t tell me it wasn’t the perfect opening for them to actually go canon

[loveatfirstfight5-0]

@boazpriestly thanks for this coda, hope you don't mind I had to write this little something to get it out of my head ...

Never let me go

Steve had left after Daiyu Mei’s attack.

Danny understood why. At least, he had tried to.

Steve had spent a decade carrying weight that no one else could see. Losing his father. Losing Joe. Losing Freddie. Losing Catherine in more ways than one. Losing the future he had once imagined for himself. And when Daiyu Mei came back into his life, dredging up old wounds and forcing him to relive his father’s murder all over again, it was too much.

So, he left.

Danny had told himself that he understood. That Steve needed to figure out who he was when he wasn’t carrying Five-0 on his back, when he wasn’t holding the entire world together with sheer force of will. Danny had even convinced himself that he wasn’t mad about it. Because that would be selfish, right? Steve deserved to find his peace.

But when Steve had left—when he had actually walked away, boarded that plane without any kind of real plan or promise—he had taken something with him.

Danny had felt it the second Steve disappeared through security at the airport. A hollow space had opened up inside his chest, like someone had scooped out an essential piece of him and walked away with it.

And then, for weeks, months, nothing.

Sure, Steve checked in. Occasionally. A text here, a phone call there, always just enough to let Danny know he was alive but never enough to make it feel like he was still here.

Danny had kept going, of course. He had to. He had Charlie, and Gracie when she was home from college. He still had Five-0, sort of, though it wasn’t really the same. But every time his phone buzzed, he hoped it was Steve. And every time it wasn’t, he felt that stupid hollow space get just a little bit bigger.

Then one day, Steve had come back.

Like it was nothing. Like he had never left.

Danny had been standing in the middle of his kitchen, half a sandwich in his hand, when Steve knocked on the door and then just walked in. Danny had nearly choked.

"Hey," Steve had said, like he was coming home from a weekend fishing trip and not months away on some vague soul-searching adventure.

Danny had stared at him for a solid ten seconds before he spoke.

"What the hell are you doing here?"

Steve had blinked, clearly thrown by the reaction. Like Danny was supposed to just roll out a welcome mat and hand him a beer.

"I, uh, came back?"

Danny had put his sandwich down and exhaled through his nose. "Oh, you came back, did you? Just like that? Like you didn’t up and vanish on me with nothing but a see you when I see you?"

Steve’s jaw had tightened, his body shifting in that way it did when he was bracing for a fight.

Danny had shaken his head. He wasn’t doing this. Not right now. Not when his heart was beating so damn fast in his chest that it actually hurt.

"Go home, Steve," Danny had said, turning away. "I can’t do this right now."

Steve had left without another word.

That was a week ago.

And now, Steve was here, standing in Danny’s living room, looking at him like he was trying to see straight through his skin. Like Danny was some kind of puzzle he was desperate to figure out.

Danny was tired. So tired.

He exhaled and let it happen.

"I loved you, Steve," he said, the words tumbling out before he could stop them. "I was in love with you, and I—"

“Was?”

The word pushed down on Steve’s tongue, scraping hard like sandpaper across an open wound. His heart pounded ruthlessly behind his ribs, so loud in his own head that Steve was certain everyone within a ten-mile radius could hear it. “Are you not anymore?”

Danny let out a sharp breath and ran both hands through his hair before dragging them down the sides of his neck. “No,” he muttered, then groaned and shook his head. “I mean, yes, I’m still in love with you, but…”

Steve lifted his foot to take a step forward but set it back down just as quickly. The ache to reach out and touch Danny, to just hold some part of him—his hand, his wrist, the hem of his shirt—burned through Steve’s entire body like a dry log in the middle of an inferno.

He stayed put.

Danny turned slowly and looked at him, something in his expression crumbling just a little.

“Steve, I can’t do this anymore. I can’t keep chasing you and putting you first if you aren’t going to do the same for me.”

“Danny—”

“Please, just let me say this. I have to get it out before I lose my nerve.”

Steve nodded.

Danny exhaled and sat on the couch, covering his face with his hands briefly before patting the cushion next to him.

Steve sat as close as he dared, but Danny scooted over until their bodies touched.

Steve couldn’t stop the sigh of relief that escaped his mouth, or the way his body just lost all of its tension the second Danny’s shoulder pressed against his.

“Listen, I’m in love with you, Steve,” Danny said quietly. “I have been in love with you for so long, and I hate that it took you leaving for what felt like forever for me to be able to admit that out loud. I hate it so much. But what I hate more is that you left me. Here. Alone. Again.”

Steve swallowed, his fingers curling into the fabric of his jeans.

“And I get it,” Danny continued. “I get that you needed to go. I understand that you’re on this whole self-discovery journey, and I’m happy for you. I support you. But Steve, I need you to choose me. Not— not before yourself or whatever, but if you love me like you say you do, then I need you to choose me. Please.”

Steve opened his mouth, but no words came out.

Danny closed his eyes and nodded, like he had expected as much. “Yeah. Okay.” He moved to stand, but Steve grabbed his wrist.

Not hard. Just enough to say stay.

Danny stopped.

Steve loosened his grip, let his fingers slide down until they curled around Danny’s hand.

“I do love you,” Steve said, voice hoarse. “I love you, Danny. And I—I don’t know how to do this the right way. I don't know how to be good at this. But I don’t want to lose you.”

Danny exhaled slowly, his fingers tightening around Steve’s. He tilted his head, eyes searching Steve’s face, trying to decide if he believed him. If he could trust this moment.

And Steve didn’t let go.

“I don’t need perfect,” Danny said again, softer this time. “I just need you to try.”

Steve nodded. “I’m trying.”

Danny studied him for another moment, then exhaled and sank back onto the couch. His shoulder pressed against Steve’s again, warm and solid.

This time, he didn’t move away.

“Okay,” Danny said finally. “Then don’t stop.”

Steve didn’t let go. And Danny didn’t pull away.

For a long moment, they just sat there, the silence between them thick but not heavy. Not the kind of silence that meant something was breaking. It felt more like something was settling. Something that had been unspoken for too damn long.

Danny exhaled, his fingers twitching a little beneath Steve’s, but he didn’t try to move. If anything, his grip tightened, like he needed to remind himself that Steve was still there.

Steve swallowed, his free hand rubbing against the seam of his jeans. He wasn’t good at this. Never had been. But this thing with Danny—whatever it had been, whatever it was—had always been different.

Danny sighed and shook his head, a small, self-deprecating smile curling at the edge of his lips. “I really didn’t expect you to grab my hand, y’know,” he muttered. “Thought you’d just let me walk out.”

Steve frowned, his fingers flexing slightly. “Why?”

Danny scoffed, tipping his head back against the couch. “Because you’ve let me go before.”

Steve flinched. He didn’t mean to, but it hit him square in the chest, stealing the breath right out of his lungs.

Danny must have noticed because he let out another sigh—less sharp, more tired. “I don’t mean that the way it sounded,” he admitted. “I just— I thought you were always gonna be the guy who needed to run. And I was always gonna be the idiot chasing after you.”

Steve’s throat felt tight. He turned slightly so he could see Danny’s face more clearly, the soft glow of the lamp throwing shadows across his sharp features.

“I don’t want to run anymore,” Steve admitted, his voice barely above a whisper.

Danny blinked, clearly surprised.

Steve licked his lips, his chest tightening as he tried to string words together. He wasn’t good at this. At explaining things. At making people understand what was happening in his head. But if he didn’t try—if he let Danny walk away again—he wasn’t sure he’d get another chance.

“I thought leaving was the answer,” he said slowly. “Thought if I got away, if I could just figure myself out, then I’d come back knowing what I was supposed to do. How I was supposed to fix things.”

Danny nodded slightly, but his expression was guarded.

Steve inhaled sharply. “But all it did was make me realize that nothing out there made sense without you.”

Danny blinked again, and this time, something in his expression cracked.

Steve let go of Danny’s hand just long enough to reach for his wrist again, his fingers sliding over the warm skin there, feeling the steady pulse beneath his touch.

“I love you,” Steve said, the words coming easier this time. “And I don’t know how to be the guy who gets it right all the time, but I do know that I don’t want to lose you. I don’t want to run anymore.”

Danny exhaled through his nose, his eyes flickering away for a brief moment before coming back. His lips pressed together, like he was trying to decide whether or not to believe it.

“Okay,” Danny said finally, voice quiet. “Then don’t.”

Steve nodded, his grip tightening. “I won’t.”

Danny held his gaze for another long second before sighing and letting himself lean into Steve’s shoulder again. This time, he let his head rest there, like he was too damn tired to keep holding himself up.

Steve didn’t move. Didn’t breathe for a second.

Then, slowly, carefully, he turned his head just enough for his lips to brush against Danny’s hair.

Danny made a soft, barely audible sound but didn’t pull away. Steve exhaled.

Danny didn’t move for a long time. His head stayed where it was, pressed against Steve’s shoulder, like he was testing the weight of it, seeing if he could trust this moment—trust Steve.

Steve didn’t dare shift, didn’t even risk a deep breath, afraid that if he moved too much, Danny would pull away. That this fragile, tentative thing between them would shatter before he could prove that he meant what he said. That he wasn’t running this time.

Eventually, Danny sighed, the warmth of it ghosting across Steve’s collarbone. “So what now?”

Steve swallowed, his fingers still curled around Danny’s wrist, feeling the slow, steady pulse beneath his fingertips. He wasn’t sure if it was Danny’s heart pounding or his own, but it didn’t really matter.

He turned his head slightly, resting his cheek against Danny’s hair, just for a second, just to feel close. “I don’t know,” Steve admitted, voice low. “But I’m not going anywhere.”

Danny let out a quiet huff of laughter, but there was no bite to it. “That’s a start, I guess.”

Steve tightened his grip just a fraction, like a silent promise.

Danny exhaled again, and his fingers twitched against Steve’s knee before curling into the fabric of his jeans, holding on like he wasn’t quite ready to let go either.

After a while, Danny shifted, sitting up a little, but he didn’t move away entirely. He rubbed a hand over his face, exhaling through his nose, and then turned slightly to look at Steve, really look at him.

“You don’t get to back out of this,” Danny said, quiet but firm. “You don’t get to tell me all this and then decide later that you’re not sure.”

Steve met his eyes, steady. “I won’t.”

Danny searched his face, like he was looking for a crack, for an excuse, for some reason not to believe him. But Steve didn’t give him one.

Finally, Danny let out a long breath, rubbing a hand over the back of his neck. “Okay,” he murmured. “Okay.”

Steve nodded, his fingers still tangled in Danny’s.

Danny shook his head slightly, lips twitching, like he couldn’t quite believe this was happening. “You’re gonna drive me insane, aren’t you?”

Steve huffed a quiet laugh, shifting just enough that their knees bumped together. “Probably.”

Danny sighed dramatically, but there was a warmth in his expression now, something softer. “Yeah, well. That’s nothing new.”

Steve smiled, small but real.

Danny eyed him for a second longer, then sighed and muttered, “Come on,” before pushing himself up off the couch.

Steve frowned slightly, immediately feeling the loss of contact, but Danny just jerked his head toward the hallway. “I’m going to bed. And if you meant what you said, you’re coming with me.”

Steve’s throat tightened, but he nodded.

Danny didn’t wait. He just turned and walked toward his bedroom, and Steve—without hesitation, without doubt, without any of the fear that had kept him stuck for so damn long—followed.

Steve followed Danny down the hall, his heart thudding in his chest with something close to anticipation but edged with nerves. This was it. No running. No excuses. Just them.

Danny pushed open the bedroom door and stepped inside without looking back. He didn’t make a big deal about it, didn’t pause for dramatic effect—just kicked off his shoes and pulled his shirt over his head before tossing it somewhere in the general direction of the hamper.

Steve hesitated for half a second before stepping inside and closing the door behind him.

Danny turned, watching him, his hands on his hips. “You planning on standing there all night?”

Steve huffed a quiet laugh, shaking his head as he toed off his shoes. He pulled his shirt over his head as well, more hesitant than Danny had been, but when he met Danny’s gaze, there was no judgment there. Just something warm, something patient.

Danny slid onto the bed, sitting against the headboard, one arm resting casually across his stomach. He patted the empty space beside him. “Come on, Commander.”

Steve didn’t hesitate this time. He moved toward the bed, slipping under the covers, the warmth of Danny’s body immediately seeping into his side.

For a moment, neither of them spoke.

The room was quiet except for their breathing, and Steve realized that despite all the times they had been in bed together—not like this, but still—this felt different.

Danny shifted slightly, turning on his side, one arm tucked under his head. “You still good?”

Steve turned to face him, mirroring his position. “Yeah.”

Danny exhaled, his fingers twitching slightly against the mattress. “Okay.”

Steve watched him for a moment before hesitantly reaching out, his fingers brushing lightly against Danny’s wrist. He expected Danny to pull away, but instead, Danny let out a small breath and turned his hand, lacing their fingers together.

Steve squeezed gently, grounding himself in the moment, in the warmth of Danny’s palm against his.

Danny let out a quiet, tired laugh. “You realize I’m gonna make you work for this, right?”

Steve smirked. “Yeah, I figured.”

Danny shook his head, but his fingers tightened around Steve’s.

A beat of silence stretched between them, comfortable this time.

Then, quietly, Danny murmured, “Don’t make me regret this.”

Steve swallowed against the tightness in his throat and squeezed his hand again, just a little. “I won’t.”

Danny didn’t say anything else, just let out a slow breath and closed his eyes.

Steve stayed awake a little longer, just watching him, letting the reality of this settle into his bones.

No more running.

No more hesitation.

Just Danny, warm and solid beside him.

And this time, Steve wasn’t letting go.

“I loved you, Steve. I was in love with you, and I —“

“Was?” The word pushes down on Steve’s tongue, scraping hard like sandpaper across an open wound. His heart pounds ruthlessly behind his ribs, so loud in his own head that Steve’s certain everyone within a ten mile radius can hear it. “Are you not anymore?”

“No,” Danny says, pushing both hands through his hair and then dragging them down the sides of his neck. “I mean, yes, I’m still in love with you, but...”

Steve lifts his foot to take a step forward but sets it back down just as quickly. The ache to reach out and touch Danny, to just hold some part of him, even just the hem of his shirt or the cuff of his sleeve, burns through Steve’s entire body like a dry log in the middle of an inferno. He stays put. Danny turns slowly and looks at him.

“Steve, I can’t do this anymore. I can’t keep chasing you and putting you first if you aren’t going to do the same for me.”

“Danny...”

“Please, just let me say this. I have to get it out before I lose my nerve.”

Steve nods.

“Good. Okay,” Danny sits on the couch and covers his face with his hands briefly, then pats the cushion next to him. Steve sits as close as her dares, but Danny scoots over until their bodies touch. Steve can’t stop the sigh of relief that escapes his mouth or the way his body just loses all of its tension the second Danny’s shoulder presses against his.

“Listen, I’m in love with you, Steve. I have been in love with you for so long and I hate that it took you leaving for what seemed like forever for me to be able to admit that out loud. I hate it so much, but what I hate more is that you left me, here, alone...again. And I mean, I understand that you’re on this journey of self-discovery, and I’m happy for you and I support you, but Steve, I need you to choose me. Not like — not before yourself or whatever, but if you love me like you say you do, then I need you to choose me. Please.”

[straight-actors]

Charles

[teruel-a-witch]

love at first rant

[kholkate]

That's his husband right there.