#Daniel solace x reader

[lordbettany]

Aneurin Barnard - Fashion Designer AU Moodboard I

[erospandemos]

Some things never change

NewJeans Danielle x Reader

Where Danielle tries everything in her power to make you understand her feelings

Beta-reader: @leafostuff

You had known Danielle Marsh all your life, from when she was just a little kid to now that she's a fully grown adult, although her height kind of stopped halfway. You met her in the first days of elementary school. She must have looked weak to the other kids with her two missing teeth, thin legs, and pale complex, so a group of rascals started messing with her.

They would call her all sorts of names with their limited word knowledge, mocking her with gestures and weird sounds. They'd also push her around or make her trip and fall. Even though their mind was still limited, they already had a knack for bullying.

You happened to be around her when you witnessed one of those scenes. All it took was a slap and a threat and the kids fled away. It was just a normal thing for you, as fights were very common at that age but for Danielle, you were her saviour.

"Are you okay?" you asked her worryingly.

Amidst her sniffling, Danielle managed to reply, "Those bullies were teasing me. But you made them go away, so thank you."

You felt a bit bad about her. Her eyes were so red from crying and she kept rubbing her eyelids to dry those endless tears. "Don't worry Danielle. They will never tease you again. I'll always be here for you," you reassured her, not knowing what kind of promise you were making.

What followed were days, weeks, and months of annoyance. Danielle followed you everywhere you went, pestering you from the morning to the afternoon—always talking, always joking, always asking.

"Thank you for helping me!" she told you. "Jinyoung hasn't been mean to me anymore! I love you!"

You were annoyed. You let her talk and kept walking, "He was just being an ass. It's nothing special."

She began to be your shadow, a silent companion seeking solace. A girl looking for a friend, or at least that is what you and she thought. There was already something present in her heart but you just didn't know it yet. But kids learned quickly.

It was a random day in April when she made her first move.

"My parents taught me that I should hug the ones I love. Can I hug you?" Danielle asked you, her eyes earnest and pleading.

You were caught off guard but still nodded hesitantly. You opened your arms and she stopped closer, embracing you tightly. She found comfort in your warmth and kept you there close to her. You didn't know why she did that but you liked it too.

Then a couple of months later, you were invited to her house. You and her parents got to know each other and figured it would be a good occasion for you two to bond together. At her house, there was a very nice illustrated book for children. The kind to have small but enormous sentences. Her eyes were sparkling with excitement when she brought it out from her desk to show it to you.

"It's a story about a prince who married the princess he saved. Don't you think that it's so... cool?" She said, her eyes wondering between dreams and fantasies.

"Yeah, I guess," you replied. You didn't fully grasp the implication of the tale. You just liked the drawings.

"You saved me from the bullies, just like the prince. Maybe... maybe we could get married someday?" Danielle confessed, blushing.

You chuckled nervously, still oblivious and clueless.

Things also got more complicated when she caught you talking with a girl from your class.

"Who's she?" Danielle asked, laced with jealousy.

"Oh, this is my friend from the class, Seo-yeon," you introduced her, unaware of her stern demeanor.

"Well, she better not try to steal you away from me!" she declared, pouting and crossing her arms.

You laughed nervously again, not understanding what she was trying to say, and apologized the poor Seo-yeon who was receiving the possessive gave from Danielle.

That was more than ten years ago. But now that you were both grown up, things didn't change at all.

You're reading the book you've been saving up for weeks, finally free from the exam season of college. It's been a relaxing day, as it's been the first full break you could take and you decided to just replenish your energy by doing nothing all day. The day was good outside but you didn't feel like going out at all.

But you did not know that the outside would visit you instead.

A too-familiar figure barged into your room, with a familiar voice and force. "Hey! Your mom said I could come in. Hope you don't mind," Danielle exclaims.

You look up, surprised. You have to bid goodbye to your book because there was no way she would've left the house now.

"Uh, hey. No, not at all," you say, recollecting yourself. Looking around, you could see the mess the room was left in but after all the times your friend had seen, it wasn't much of a problem. You just left it as it was.

Danielle approaches, her grin widening as she eyes the book in your hands. She lowers her head and reads your title, not because she is interested, but because it could be a potential reason to tease you.

"What fascinating world are you escaping to today?" Danielle asks you.

Before you can respond, Danielle snatches the book away, dramatically flipping through the pages, not a word passing through her eyes.

"It's a great book, you know," you say before she can judge you. But that wasn't her intention. Danielle tosses the book aside and, with a sly grin, moves closer to you.

"Boys, your age don't really stay in their house all day, shouldn't you go outside?"

You raise your eyebrow. "What are you trying to say?

She clears her throat, "Well, you know, all boys go around picking girls, shouldn't you be interested in girls too? Especially me..."

"Books are interesting enough," you say, annoyed.

Danielle sighs heavily and slaps your shoulder. "You really don't get it do you...? Whatever," she says, "But do you know what's even more interesting than books?"

Without waiting for an answer, Danielle wraps her arm around you, pulling him into an unexpected side hug. You, visibly annoyed and embarrassed, squirm from the surprise and try to claw out of her grasp. But it just gets tighter. "Danielle, seriously, what are you doing?" you stutter.

Danielle chuckles, enjoying your annoyed remarks, and lets her other arm get you too.

"Just playing with you."

You try to pull away, but Danielle persists.

"Can we not do this right now?" you say. Danielle rolls her eyes and sighs before releasing you.

"Oh, come on. Just having a bit of fun," she says, pouting.

She playfully pokes your cheek and laughs.

"This is ridiculous."

Danielle seizes the opportunity and leans closer, circling your thighs. "You know, a little embarrassment never hurt anyone," she says and eyes you up and down, locking her eyes with yours. "Besides, you're kinda cute when you're flustered."

You groan, covering your face with your hands. "Why are you doing this???"

She laughs, finally satisfied, and lets herself fall on the couch. "You know," she speaks truthfully, "there's something about you that's just too irresistible."

"Yeah, you aren't the only one."

Suddenly, you feel Danielle's intense gaze on you. "Who else is teasing you? Girls?"

"Sometimes?"

"Oh, that's not good. They have to know you're taken."

You raise an eyebrow. You don't sense anything good coming. "What are you talking about now?"

"I was thinking, maybe I should leave my scent on you. You know, like marking my territory. That way, other girls will know you're taken."

You blink repeatedly, utterly bewildered.

"Leave your scent? Danielle, we're not animals."

Danielle chuckles.

"Just imagine it – you walk into a room, and everyone's like, –Oh, they smell like Danielle. They're off the market!–"

"You've been watching too many nature documentaries."

"Shut up and come here."

Danielle snuggles closer, her energy warming the room and your body. You feel her arms quickly wrapping around your body and her legs tangling into yours and before you knew it, she was already spooning you. After all these years of doing so, she has gotten quite good at it. "You know, you really should loosen up. It's just a cuddle between old friends."

You shift uncomfortably, a bit against her although her lively insistence was stronger than your will. "Danielle, seriously, we're not kids anymore. We can't just... cuddle like this."

She tilts her head, studying you with a mischievous glint in her eyes. "Come on! Don't be such a grown-up. We used to do this all the time when we were kids. It's nostalgic!"

You sigh, giving in a bit. "Yeah, but things are different now."

Danielle was a slim girl, petite. She felt small although you were the one under her grasp, and her limbs were delicate and fragile. She felt small but soft as well. She was an adult now, and her touch made your heart beat faster, in a way it never did.

Danielle grins, unphased. "Different doesn't have to mean worse."

"But seriously," Danielle says with curiosity, "you used to be the one initiating these cuddle sessions. What happened to that fearless little kid?"

You blush, a rare occurrence for the reserved you. "Well, things change. People change."

Danielle's eyes soften, and she nudges you gently. You can smell her perfume and it calms you. "Change isn't always bad, you know."

You can't help but smile at her infectious enthusiasm. Danielle, her head still nestled against your shoulder, can't resist the opportunity to tease you. "You know, I always thought you were the bravest little knight in our little adventures when we were young."

You raise an eyebrow, a hint of a smile playing on your lips. "A knight, huh? I'm not sure I see the resemblance."

Danielle chuckles, tracing imaginary patterns on your arm. A soft red starts to appear on your cheek. "Oh, please! You were my protector, always ready to face imaginary dragons and monsters. What happened to that fearless warrior?"

"Well, maybe I outgrew the knight phase."

Danielle leans back, looking at you with a sly grin. "Outgrew, or maybe you're just afraid to admit that deep down, you still have a bit of that brave knight in you."

You roll your eyes, but a small smile lingers on your face.

"Did you remember when I told you I'd be your princess? I still mean it you know?" she says, as if it was nothing.

You realize the meaning of her words and can't fathom any response, and Danielle can't help but enjoy the gentle blush that colors your cheeks. She teases you further, "You're blushing, Mr. Grown-up. Who would've thought the mighty knight would be so easily flustered?"

You mumble something incoherent, avoiding her gaze.

That was typical of you and your friend: constant teasing and joking. But you knew you wanted something more from her and you were just running around, trying to avoid it. One day, however, it finally came to you, knocking at your door, and you had to face it head-on.

You hear a loud frantic knocking on your door. The sudden noise surprises you and you get slowly, weary of who might be on the other end. The knocking doesn't stop and you look into the peephole. To your surprise, it wasn't a killer coming for you but it was your friend, Danielle, and from the looks of it, with her disheveled hair and tired eyes, she wasn't looking so good. You open the door and she bursts inside your apartment, drenched from head to toe, dripping water everywhere.

"Whoa, Danielle! What happened to you?" you exclaim.

She shakes herself like a wet dog, sending droplets flying, and brushes her wet strands away from her forehead to look at you in the eyes. "Caught in a sudden downpour. I practically swam here!"

You chuckle and walk to the bathroom. "Don't move!" you tell her as you go grab some towels. You don't want her wetting the whole house as well. "Well, you certainly look like you went for a swim."

Danielle takes the towel, but instead of immediately drying off, she shoots you a mischievous grin. "You look quite excited about seeing me, don't you?"

You raise an eyebrow and look at her, confused. "What do you mean?"

Danielle pretends to inspect her soaked clothes with exaggerated concern, scanning her shirt, and her skirt. She opens her arms and invites you to look at her clothes. "Oh, no. I think these clothes might be see-through now. But I'm sure you already noticed. I can feel you glued on me."

You immediately understand what she's trying to say. You roll your eyes and grow. "Danielle, come on. Don't be ridiculous."

She smirks, wringing out her hair over the towel. "Ridiculous? Or am I just giving you a little peek? You know it's fine. I didn't tell you not to look."

You blush, trying to play it cool. "You're impossible. I'm lucky it's just the two of us. Otherwise, I might get in trouble." You hate to agree with Danielle, but it was impossible for you not to notice her figure, perfectly feminine, perfectly grown, and perfectly beautiful. You gulp loudly and stare at the wall.

Danielle giggles, sauntering over to me with a playful twirl of her wet hair. "Well, I can't let you miss out on the view, can I?" She laughs again as you shoot a quick sideeye at her. "Oh, did I catch you looking again?"

"Come on! No, I didn't."

Danielle comes closer, she's having fun, too much fun. She sways her hips, brushing your chest, leaving wet handprints on your shirt and looks at you with such a teasing smile that you couldn't do anything but blush and back intot he wall. "Oh, don't look away, baby."

"Danielle, cut it out," you stammer, my cheeks turning a deeper shade of red.

She leans in, her voice dropping to a sultrier tone. "What's the matter? Don't tell me you're not enjoying this."

You try to look away, but Danielle continues to playfully tease you. Then she laughs, finally satisfied.

"Okay, okay, I'm just messing with you!" she confesses, wiping away a tear of laughter. "I couldn't resist seeing you squirm."

You sigh in relief, but your embarrassment lingers. "You're unbelievable, Danielle."

She giggles while running away.

You go to your room to pick up some clothes for her, unfortunately you got nothing else to give her but your own clothes. You try the smallest size possible, so at least she wouldn't have to swim in them. You smell them first, to make sure, she won't be annoyed by an unwanted smell, then think if she'd feel cold or not—the house was quite warm on the inside. You knew she always liked to wear shorts, so you get a pair and a shirt and sweater to match.

You hand her the clothes, "Here, these should be more comfortable than wet clothes."

Danielle, takes them and smiles brightly. "Oh, I didn't know you were such a considerate boyfriend," she says. You start blushing but this time she's blushing too between her creased cheeks. You chuckle nervously, dismissing the comment.

"It's nothing," you say and then point the bathroom. "You've already been here before. Go change there or take a shower if you want."

"I'll just change, thank you. Don't peek at me though, okay?"

"What are you saying? Of course I won't," you reply.

She grins and runs into the bathroom to put on your outfit. It doesn't take her a while before she emerges wearing your oversized hoodie and shorts, her hair slightly toused. You have to admit, she looked adorable. The way the hoodie was way too big for her, and how the shorts let you peek at her legs, it was amazing.

It almost looked like she was your girlfriend, and she knew it too.

"Look at me, wearing your clothes," she says, raising her arms. "It's like we're in some romantic drama."

"It's just because your clothes are wet. Don't read too much into it."

Danielle continues, batting her eyelashes dramatically. She looks at you with wide eyes. "You've never offered me your clothes before. Are you sure you're not secretly seeing me as your girlfriend?"

"Don't be ridiculous. It's just clothes," you say, but her words can't leave your mind. You almost agreed.

"But these clothes smell like you," she says, taking a sniff at it. You blush brightly. "Am I stealing your scent now?"

The situation looks absurd and you're getting more and more flustered but still, you had to keep your cool. "Don't overthink it."

She bursts into laughing and jumps into the couch. "You're so cute when you deny things. Maybe I should keep wearing your clothes more often."

Trying to hide his embarrassment, you manage a weak smile. "Sure, Dani, make yourself at home."

You and Danielle keep joking around until something starts to bother your friend. She looks at the sky, more precisely at the rain, as it runs down the window, and her smile starts to fade.

Danielle turns to you and her face drops into a malinconic gaze, her eyes are half there, they're thinking about something else, but you feel the weight on you. "You know, I'm starting to feel like a fool," she says with a sigh.

You blink, taken aback by the sudden intensity in her tone. "What do you mean?"

Danielle paces the room, her agitation pouring out with every step. "You've known for ages how I feel about you. I've dropped hints, practically spelled it out, and yet you never do anything."

Bewildered, you look at her. You couldn't lie to her, you wish you could say you never realized it, but you did. You did know she was flirting with you and you did hear what she told you, clearly and explicitly. But you didn't want to accept it, you didn't want to believe it. "I... I don't realize you feel that way. I think we're just really good friends," you say and truly, you didn't think a girl like her would have any serious intentions behind her smile.

She halts, turning to face you, frustration etched on her features. "Really good friends? You and I spend hours together, we share our deepest thoughts, and I've been giving you every possible sign that I like you. How do you miss it?"

You stammer, attempting to find the right words. "I don't think... I mean, I think you're just being friendly. I never imagined you feel something more. I thought you were just messing with me."

Danielle sighs."That's the problem. You never imagine. You never consider the possibility that my feelings might extend beyond friendship. I've been dropping hints, practically shouting them, and you remain oblivious. Did it ever go through your mind?"

You run a hand through your hair, frustration mirrored in your eyes. "I never mean to hurt you, Danielle. I just... I didn't see it."

Her eyes narrow, the pent-up frustration reaching its peak. "That's precisely it. You don't see it. You never see me. It's like I've been invisible, and no matter how much I hint, you never make a move."

Danielle's words knock the air out of your lungs. You've never seen Danielle this riled up and it hurt you to know you were the cause. You take a moment to trace back your words. Have you ever imagined a life with her? Have you ever wanted to have her to yourself? Have you ever desired her?

The answer was yes. You think deeply if it was fair for you to say that only after she basically begged you to acknowledge her, but it was true, you did like her and you didn't know you were allowed to.

Danielle takes another deep breath, attempting to compose herself, but the frustration continues to spill out. "I've liked you for so long. I think you might feel the same way, but you never make a move. I've been stuck in this limbo, unsure if you even see me as more than a friend. It's driving me insane."

Your eyes soften, a mix of regret and realization settling in. "I didn't mean to make you feel invisible, Danielle. I've just been clueless, and I'm sorry if I hurt you."

She shakes her head, her frustration giving way to a sense of vulnerability. "It's not just about now. It's about all those moments before, the missed opportunities. I can't keep waiting for something that might never happen."

As Danielle's words linger in the air, a heavy silence envelops the room, punctuated only by the sound of rain tapping against the window.

"I never wanted to hurt you, Danielle," you begin. "I've been so focused on convincing myself that you couldn't possibly feel that way about me, that I never stopped to consider how you might be feeling. I'm sorry for not seeing what was right in front of me."

Danielle's gaze softens, a mix of frustration and hurt still lingering. "You're not off the hook that easily. You can't just apologize and expect me to believe you."

You nod. "You're right. I messed up, and I can't change that. But I can be honest with you now. The truth is, I've been afraid. Afraid of ruining our friendship, afraid of facing my own feelings. It's not an excuse, just an explanation."

Danielle raises an eyebrow and folds her arms. "Afraid? You?"

You chuckle wryly. "Fear doesn't always make sense. And I guess I've been scared of admitting that I like you too."

Her eyes widen, she's surprised "You do?"

You nod, your vulnerability laid bare. You hope you didn't make a mistake but you couldn't hold it in, it was now or never. "Yes, Danielle. I do. I've liked you for a while, but I never thought you could feel the same way. I convinced myself it was just a dream."

She tilts her head, a small smile playing on her lips. "So, Mr. Fearless finally admits he's not invincible."

You grin, the tension between you starting to dissipate.

Danielle steps closer, a playful glint in her eyes. As the rain outside continues its rhythmic dance, Danielle takes your hand. "No more hiding, okay? Let's figure this out together."

And for the first time, you hug her first. Your hand gently pulls her and she lets herself go, straight into your arms. You hug her softly, but with passion, with happiness. Danielle does the same, for the first time, not to tease you and not to try to make you fall in love because for once, she knows in her heart you truly love her.

THE END

Written, 16 February - 22 February 2024

[thef1diary]

Royally Fucked Series Masterlist

A Bodyguard!Daniel x Princess!OC story

Series Summary: Princess Juliette Clarendon’s structured life is upended when the charming and unorthodox Daniel Ricciardo replaces her trusted bodyguard. As she tests his abilities and grapples with his unexpected presence, she finds herself drawn to him in ways she never anticipated. Amid political intrigue and hidden dangers, Juliette struggles with her own pent-up desires, seeking solace and release from Daniel, whose dedication to her safety and willingness to go to any lengths for her only deepens their connection. Their evolving relationship faces challenges that test their trust and loyalty as they confront threats that could endanger both the kingdom and their bond.

This story includes mature content. It delves into the complexities of a princess and bodyguard relationship, exploring power imbalances and the dynamics of duty versus personal connection. The narrative features intimate scenes and adult situations that are central to the characters' development and the unfolding plot. Reader discretion is advised.

Status: Ongoing

#royally fkd fic talks -> writing process, answering asks about the story, and pretty much anything related to this fic series.

NO taglist for this story

Table Of Contents:

Meet Juliette Clarendon

1. Guarded Encounter (2.9k words)

2. Rekindled Autonomy (3.2k words)

3. Stirred Secrets (3.5k words)

4. Unexpected Danger (3.7k words)

5. Unresolved Tensions (3.8k words)

6. Loathed Boundaries (3.2k words)

7. Heated Fantasies (5.3k words)

8. Bold Gamble (coming soon)

© thef1diary 2024. all rights reserved. Do not copy, steal, translate, or repost any of my work.

[lycheeflavr]

New Beginnings

Summary: After relocating to the picturesque town of Puerto Lobos in Mexico, you quickly realize that your car is in dire need of repair. With little knowledge of local mechanics, a friendly neighbor recommends you visit Diaz’s Garage, run by the talented Sean Diaz. Sean, a hardworking and kind-hearted mechanic, welcomes you warmly. As he works on your car, you strike up a conversation, discovering that Sean and his brother Daniel moved to Puerto Lobos a few years ago, seeking peace and a new beginning after a tumultuous past. Sean’s dedication to his work is evident as he skillfully repairs your car. Meanwhile, Daniel, now sixteen, balances school and helps out around the garage. He occasionally joins in the conversation, displaying his sharp wit and curiosity about your life and experiences. As the days pass, you find yourself drawn to the garage, not just for the impeccable car service, but for the genuine companionship you find with Sean and Daniel. You start to learn more about their past, their dreams, and the close-knit bond that holds them together. In return, you share your own stories, finding solace and understanding in their company. tags: post Blood Brothers ending, Sean Diaz x Reader, might contain smut in future chapters, lots of fluff, romantic fluff, overall just fucking wholesome, obviously mentions Daniel quite often, sfw in the beginning, maybe nsfw in the future idk

Chapter one

The dusty road leading to Puerto Lobos was bathed in the golden light of the late afternoon sun. As you navigated your car through the narrow streets, the vibrant colors of the town's buildings and the sound of distant waves crashing against the shore offered a warm welcome. You had moved to this small coastal town in Mexico seeking a fresh start, a place where the past could be left behind and new memories could be made. It wasn’t easy getting here, but it was all worth it in the end. Just the thought of your beautiful small house right at the beach makes you feel accomplished and happy all over again. 

But today, your thoughts were dominated by the sputtering sound coming from your car. To be completely fair your car had gone a long way, all the way down from Washington to here, Puerto Lobos. With a frustrated sigh, you pulled over to the side of the road, glancing at the smoke wafting from the hood. Well, this certainly didn’t take very long. You have been having these kinds of problems with your car for a whole while now, but it’s never been this bad before. A friendly local had mentioned a reliable mechanic in town—Diaz’s Garage. You checked the address scribbled on a piece of paper “Oh that’s actually not far at all” you whispered to yourself and set off on foot, hoping that the mechanic could work his magic.

The garage was a modest but bustling place, filled with the scent of oil and the clinking sounds of tools. Inside, a tall young man with dark hair and a focused expression was working on a vintage truck. He looked up as you approached, wiping his hands on a rag and offering a welcoming smile. At first, you do not notice it but giving a closer look you notice that he is missing an eye. You wonder what had happened to him? 

"Hey there," he greeted, his eyes kind yet weary. "Can I help you with something?"

Relieved that he did not start speaking Spanish you gave him a thankful smile and you explained your car trouble, he nodded, introducing himself as Sean Diaz. As he listened, you couldn't help but notice the way he moved with quiet confidence, every action precise and efficient. It was clear that this garage was not just his workplace but his sanctuary.

You led him to your car, and with a few deft movements, he began diagnosing the problem. "Looks like it’s going to need some work, but nothing I can’t handle," he said reassuringly. "Why don’t you come back in a couple of hours? I should have it running smoothly by then." You sigh internally, it’s not like you thought that he would fix your car on the spot but you also did not really make a plan on what to do now. For a second you look around noticing you only ever drive through this part of down and have never actually explored it. Maybe you could find a nice place to sit down and have some food? 

“Thank you so much, I would have been totally lost if your shop hadn’t been near.” Thankfully you smile up at him again. It’s so good to finally meet someone who is actually fluent in English, even though practicing your Spanish can be fun as well. Usually, when you try to talk to natives they look at you all smiley and kind and the next thing they are doing is getting out their phone to open up the translator app. It’s kind of hard practicing your language skills when no one actually wants to try to communicate with you. But you are learning, just not as fast as you expected to, and since you already had a few years of Spanish classes in school you know most of the basics. You look up at the mechanic again and tilt your head a little bit to the side. “Say.. is there a good place for food around here? …that I can obviously reach by foot, that is.” He nods enthusiastically and gives you a reassuring tilt of his lips, a very kind smile. “Yea, actually just around the corner there is a little restaurant, if you don’t know about it I am sure many people would miss it. But when we moved here first this woman saved our asses. She doesn’t speak much English but just tell her I said hi and I bet she will cook you something very nice.” This actually sounds very nice you think to yourself and reach out your hand to give him a polite handshake. “Okay well thank you for the recommendation and also for trying to fix my car.” He accepts your handshake and chuckles lightly. “No worries and oh this should be easy to fix, gimme like let’s say two and a half hours and you can come back to a nice and well-working car.” 

“Alright see you in two and a half hours then.” You wave your hand as you are saying goodbye to him and turn around to walk the other way. The streets of Puerto Lobos were alive with activity—children playing, street vendors selling vibrant fruits and handmade crafts, and the distant sound of a song coming from speakers out of one of these stores adding a festive backdrop to the scene. As you wandered, you felt the first inklings of belonging in this charming town. He told you that the little restaurant was just around the corner but honestly as much as you were looking for it you could not find it. Well, Mr. Diaz also mentioned that if you didn’t know that it’s there you would surely miss it. You knew about these types of Restaurants where it kind of almost looked like you would walk into somebody’s actual home, so you decided to try and look around as if you were a native to this city. Which in theory was easy, but actually doing it didn’t change the fact that you are in fact not a fucking native. Suddenly the smell of fresh herbs and spices caught your nose and you looked around trying to figure out where this smell came from. After looking around for a while you actually found a little house that grasped your interest. The door was wide open and from the outside, you could see a tiny woman cooking something up. “That must be it.” 

Okay, now it would be time to pray that this woman would also actually understand what you want from her. “Please please, school just pay out this once.” you form your hands into a little prayer position as you walk up to the door. 

“Hola.” You say stepping into the little restaurant. The woman looks up at you and goes back to whatever she was doing before. Okay… she definitely knows that you are not from around here, so now you gotta use your poor Spanish skills, your hands, and your feet. This is going to be fucking embarrassing. 

“¿Puedo conseguir algo de comer aquí?” (can I get something to eat?) You ask while trying to do your best at pantomime. “Well, Mr. Diaz said you wouldn’t understand any English but he told me to say hi to you.” you felt like a total idiot talking English to this woman who obviously has no clue what you are trying to tell her. Though, as you say the name Diaz her head perks up and suddenly a lot of words that you do not understand are leaving her mouth at the speed of light. At first, you are a little unsure if she is mad and seconds away from kicking you out, but then she gives you a big smile and gestures to you to sit down. “Friend? Sean Diaz?” She asks with a heavy accent but you have no problem understanding that one word and the name of the mechanic. “Ah, Sí…” you say and nod your head while sitting down on one of the tables. She continues to speak Spanish but she doesn’t even really seem like she is trying to talk to you, more like she is talking to herself, so you are also not really trying to answer her. 

It doesn’t even take her long before she places a beverage on your table and makes a gesture that shows you should wait some more. It is a hot day so you thank her enthusiastically and take one sip of the drink that immediately helps against your dry throat. You have absolutely no clue what’s in this drink but you couldn’t bother less, this was fucking good. 

A few more minutes passed and the lady set down three big ass plates in front of you. Oh, how are you supposed to finish all of that? 

You ate as much as you could and thanked the woman like five times because Sean Diaz was right. She is a hell of a good cook. In the end, you couldn’t finish all three plates and had a bunch of leftovers, however, you decided it might be nice to bring these leftovers with you back to the Diaz shop. That would be nice of you and totally not weird right? 

Now just how were you going to ask her for bags? 

It took some time but in the end, you just had to mention Sean’s name one more time, probably paid her way too much money and somehow you ended up with a bag and even more food. She put some dessert into the bag as well, even though you tried to stop her but honestly, you wouldn’t have wanted to put up a fight against this lady. 

 When you returned to the garage, the sun was beginning to set, casting long shadows across the floor. Sean was just finishing up with your car, and beside him stood a younger boy with a mischievous grin. He was animatedly talking about his day at school, and Sean listened with the patience and attention of someone who deeply cared.

"Hey, you’re back…just in time," Sean called out, noticing your approach. "This is my brother, Daniel."

Daniel turned to you, his eyes sparkling with curiosity. "Hi! Sean fixed your car already? He's really good at this stuff."

You smiled, introducing yourself and thanking Sean for his help. “You found the restaurant?” he asked, smiling sheepishly down at you. For a second you could feel yourself blush, but why? “Yea took me some time… also I hope this is not weird or anything but I brought you my leftovers plus additional dessert. This lady must really love you because as soon as I said your name she stuffed these cakes into the bag.” Daniels’s mouth opened wide as he walked towards you, eyes fixated on the bag. “Woah I love Mrs. Perez and this is so kind of you because you must know my brother is a horrible cook.” Sean laughed so loud and kind-heartedly it seemed to warm your insides. They really seem to be nice people. “Well, she knows I am a bad cook, that's why she filled up this whole bag.” his loud laughing swelled down to a little chuckle. “Well… that’s very kind of you… actually, I haven’t asked your name yet, have I?” 

You shake your head and give him a reassuring smile, you couldn’t care less right now if this man asked you for your name because he already fixed your car and he made sure you got a shit ton of very good food. “Oh, I am (Y/N)” You set the bag down on a nearby table and watch as Daniel immediately goes to grab it and rummages through the bag. “Oh look Sean, she gave us Tarta de Queso!” 

You and Sean both couldn’t help but laugh a little at Daniel, even though he looked around sixteen to seventeen he still seemed to be very excited when it came to dessert. “Well, Daniel I think it would only be nice to share some of this cake with (Y/N) since she is the one responsible for our dinner.” He pointed at the cake and then over to you. You wouldn’t have brought it up but you also couldn’t lie, you really wanted to try a piece of this really delicious-looking cake. Daniel sighed but chuckled a bit “That only seems fair.” 

“Now I am going to pack this piece of cake up for you and then we will let you go, I am sure you have somewhere to be.” Said Sean as he took the bag and left you and Daniel alone in the garage. You and Daniel made some polite small talk, mostly talking about past experiences with the lady - or Mrs. Perez as you learned - from the restaurant. 

Sean didn’t take long and came back to hand you your very own bag filled with some cake and also a few more pastries. He gave you a little wink and placed a finger to his lips, showing you to keep quiet probably because of Daniel. He also handed you the keys to your now-repaired car. "It should be as good as new. If you have any more trouble, just come by." “Thank you so so much, I wouldn’t know what I would have done without you today.” You sigh and grab your keys. “How much do I owe you for this?” You gesture to the car, knowing that you most definitely don’t have enough cash on you. Sean just chuckled and shook his head. “Ah don’t worry the first time is on the house… also you brought us this whole bag of food.” 

Your eyes widen in disbelief, on the house? Wow, these people really are kind. “Oh, this is…” You’re lost for words for a second. “This is really really kind of you thank you so much.” 

“Oh, don’t worry, I like to help people out. Now if you ever need something just let us know.” He said as you slowly got into your car, nodded, and smiled up big at him. You wave to him and Daniel goodbye as you gently drive out of the garage. 

As you drove away, you couldn’t help but feel a connection forming. In this new place, amidst the beauty and simplicity of Puerto Lobos, you had found not just a skilled mechanic but potential friends in Sean and Daniel Diaz. Little did you know, this encounter was just the beginning of a journey that would intertwine your lives in ways you could never have imagined. authors note: omg okay I am so fucking nervous to post this, but also kind of excited!! I have been meaning to write a fic for quite some time now and I am so so happy to continue this story. If you've made it this far tysm and ily <3 I hope you liked the first chapter of my new story :) I already published it on ao3 (this was so tough to figure out since I never uploaded it on ao3 before) and I am still debating whether or not to post it on Wattpad as well. Anyway even though I am working on this fic now my requests are still open! might take me some time to finish them now, but I am so happy to be a part of this community :) <333

[psychedelic-ink]

𝐈 𝐂𝐀𝐍 𝐅𝐄𝐄𝐋 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐁𝐄𝐀𝐓

pairing: stripper!jack daniels x f!reader

genre: stripper AU, explicit, minors dni

word count: 4.2k

summary: frustrated by your everyday life, you seek solace at a male strip club. It's your first time and you're instantly mesmerized by the one that calls himself "Whiskey".

warnings: a mild start of a anxiety attack at the beginning, suggestive dancing, stripping, coming untouched, awkward moments, reader's first time at a strip club, unprofessional situations, mutual pining, sexual tension, use of good girl once

a/n: this idea was born whilst we were talking with @fuckyeahdindjarin about stripper!frankie and ofc since both of us are unhinged about a certain cowboy, the conversation steered naturally in the direction of stripper!jack ❤️‍🔥 I'd like to add that I've never been to a strip club and everything here (especially the dances) are born from me watching way too many male stripping tutorials and google searches, so it might not be %1000 authentic buuuuut hopefully it's fun nonetheless!

click for part two of the stripper!jack series

dividers by @firefly-graphics 💜

Your eyes are glued to the neon sign right above the bar. It flickers a bright pink, then purple, then red. In capital letters, it says: PEEP SHOW, and underneath it there’s a heart and in that, a keyhole. 

The music isn’t loud enough to leave you deaf, thankfully. You’re not sure you could’ve handled music blaring from the speakers like you were in a dance club. Make Up Sex by SoMo plays in the background, you gently sway with the rhythm refusing to look at the stage. The thumb of your right-hand traces over the knuckles of your left. You notice the bartender and tear your gaze from the sign.

He stands behind the counter, his presence radiating a magnetic charm. With a physique sculpted to perfection, he possesses an air of rugged masculinity. His hazel eyes hold a captivating depth, and his confident smile hints at a mischievous nature. As he moves with grace and confidence, he threads his fingers through his tousled chestnut hair.

“You look like you might need a drink,” he teases, his smile bright and comforting. “Anything I can help you with?” 

“Uh. . . a greyhound please?” 

“Sure thing, sweetheart,” he replies, taking a step back as if about to leave. But then, he pauses, leaning in close. His breath gently fans your skin, a rush of excitement flooding your veins. “And just some friendly advice, try to relax. We promise we don’t bite,” he says with a wink and goes off to prepare your drink. 

You’re frustrated. Have you truly been that obvious? Who are you kidding— of course you have. You’re alone at a male strip club staring at the neon sign rather than the stage. Of course, they can tell you’re new here. You sigh and look around. The establishment is surprisingly neat. You notice a bachelorette party taking place not that far away from you, they seem to be having fun, screaming as a stripper sways his hips from side to side. He looks good. Chiseled abs, shiny chest, the whole thing shebang. 

Your heart sinks into your chest. You hate being alone and you’re so incredibly tired of it. Everyone you know is either busy or doesn’t care enough to spare you even an hour. It’s been two years since your last relationship and you swear the lack of company is eating you alive. It would be fine if you had a couple of distractions, like going out with friends maybe, but that proved to be an impossible ask. You’re not even sure why you’re so bothered. You do a lot of things alone. You enjoy your own company. Yet, for some reason seeing everyone together, having fun is more difficult today compared to other days. Your chest collapses on itself, your pulse quick under your skin. 

Suddenly it's very hard to breathe. 

You take short, sharp breaths, filling your lungs with the scent of musk and strawberries. 

Your chest continues to heave—Shit, are you about to have a panic attack in a freaking strip club? Now that will surely be in your top five most embarrassing moments. Nothing even happened, why are you feeling like this?

“You a’right there darlin’?” 

A voice smooth as honey reaches your ears. It curls around your body and keeps you still. Goosebumps flare across your skin, the small hairs that are scattered over the back of your neck standing with attention. Slowly, you turn. 

It’s one of the strippers, at least you assume it’s one of the strippers. He’s wearing a cowboy hat, a leather jacket, and some low-hanging jeans. He’s wearing a white mesh top underneath. You find yourself unabashedly gawking at him. You’re not sure how long you stare but you’re hoping it only lasted for a second. And if you’re really lucky, he wouldn’t have even noticed. 

In contrast to the other strippers you’ve seen so far, he appears slightly older with a softened stomach, yet possesses a lean physique sculpted by years of dance.

You swallow thickly, forcing your gaze back up. He’s clean-shaven except for a dark mustache, he’s smiling but you see a hint of worry in his gaze. Narrowing your eyes, you notice a small gold sticker in the shape of a star under his right eye. 

“I’m. . .” you swallow again and shake your head. You’re dumbfounded. “I’m okay, thanks.” 

The bartender places the greyhound you ordered, at the same time the stripper extends a hand, “Whiskey,” he says in a sultry way. You squeeze his hand and raise your eyebrows, your shake is a bit weak. 

“Whiskey?” you ask. He lets go of your hand and you bring it to your forehead, nervous laughter escaping you. “Oh, it’s your stage name. Of course.” 

His crooked smile is intoxicating, the tip of his tongue moves over his teeth. “My parents would have to hate me to name me ‘whiskey’ sugar,” he answers, rubbing his chin. A moment of silence follows as he thinks, ”Well, my real name ain’t any less embarrassing now that I think about it.” 

You want to ask him his real name but end up biting your tongue instead. You can’t ask him that, it would be rude, and even if you did you doubt that he’ll tell you. Pressing your lips tightly together, you drop your gaze to your drink. You curl your fingers around it. The sudden cold against your skin calming you. 

“First time?” he asks and you nod. “May I ask why you’re here then, so I can be of service?” 

That’s a good question. Why are you here? 

“I think to have some fun,” you mutter as you drag your thumb over the cool condensation. “I’m just. . .” you shake your head. “Nevermind, that’s stupid. Let’s just say I’m here to have some fun.” 

Whiskey observes you for a moment. His chocolate gaze taking in every detail of your expression. Are all strippers this attentive? you think, heat crawling up your spine. His hand slowly slides over the smooth bar until his fingers are gently resting above your wrist. You suck in a breath. His thumb moves over to the inside of your wrist, tracing the vein that pulses violently. 

“How about a private dance?” he asks slowly, as if you might bolt out the doors at any given second. “I promise to entertain you thoroughly, sugar.” 

You blink, “Really?” you ask instantly feeling foolish at the question. It’s a service he provides, that you will be paying for, of course he means it. Nonetheless, he seems amused by the question. He grins proudly, crowding your personal space. He tilts his head. Your fingers twitch around the glass and your eyes drop to his lips. 

Man, he’s dreamy. You’re starting to understand the appeal of these establishments. 

“Really,” he parrots back at you. “Follow me, darlin’.” 

With shaky legs, you do. 

The private room is a sanctuary tucked away from prying eyes. 

Your eyes follow the sumptuous drapes of deep velvet cascading from floor to ceiling. In the center of the room stands a circular stage much smaller compared to the one outside, its surface gleaming. Positioned in the middle of it, a solitary chair, adorned in lavish leather, and next to it a small table with a small remote on top. Whiskey closes the door as you enter and walks with confident steps. You stand awkwardly until he gestures towards the sole seat with his head. 

“Take a seat, sweetheart. Get comfortable.” 

“O–Okay.” 

You’re not aware of how close he is until you take a seat, he immediately follows, dipping low. He curls two thick fingers under your chin and tilts your head up, his gaze searching. 

“Tell me if anythin’ starts becomin’ too much, understood?” 

“Understood,” you squeak, cheeks growing warm. Without any hesitation, he starts the music. Acquainted by the Weeknd starts playing softly through the speakers. There’s a mischievous twinkle in his eyes. The way he walks now is different from the way he walked when guiding you here. He saunters over to you, his shoulders rounding as he starts feeling the music moving through him. 

He stands in front of you, movements fluid and confident. You’re mesmerized by him.  He stalks even closer to you, and you feel the electric heat radiating off of his body. He slides his hands down your arms and you can't help but let out a little gasp. 

Whiskey continues to study your expression, He moves with grace and purpose, his body sliding and swaying sensually to the music. His hips rock back and forth in time, seemingly choreographed flawlessly. His hands glide down his body, tracing the contours of his definition before slipping up his torso. His movements are punctuated by smoldering gazes and slow, deliberate breaths. He rolls his shoulders, his leather jacket sliding to his elbows and falling to the floor a beat later. Your mouth waters. 

Suddenly, he turns and bends his knees, straddling your thighs. Your gaze drops, turning into saucers as you take in the sight of his tiny little ass. You exhale a sharp breath from your nose, nostrils flaring. He draws circles with his hips, nearly brushing against you but not quite, he gently holds your wrists, placing them in his inner thighs. His touch is feather-like and with two fingers, allowing you the chance to break free if needed. Your skin feels taut over your muscles, sweat building at your tailbone—he’s so close. You don’t even remember the last time you were this close to a man. It’s dizzying. 

Whiskey slowly extends his legs and slides your hands up, your fingers skim the apex of his thighs until he’s standing. 

Arousal builds between your legs, your lips a tight, thin line. 

Your hands are on his crotch. 

Oh god, you think you might actually faint. Wouldn’t that be fucking hilarious? 

Fuck he feels warm under your palms—

Scratch that, he feels big. 

He drops down as he rolls his hips, his body slides under your hands like a snake and your fingers move up his chest with the movement, feeling the mesh fabric and the firm chest underneath. Very inappropriately, your nails bite into his skin. If your eyes weren’t glued to this gorgeous man’s back, you would’ve missed the moment his hips stuttered, the smallest grunt echoing from the back of his throat. 

“Sorry,” you squeak, fingers twitching.  

“Don’t worry about it darlin’, just enjoy the show.” 

He stands back up again, guiding your hands down to his hips as he squats low. Before you know it, your hands are resting on his pelvis once more, feeling the underlying heaviness. He grinds forward, hefty bulge filling your palms. 

The music fades to the background. His steps in slow motion, he turns and straddles you normally, knees dipping as he raises his arms and grinds his hips towards you. Your breath catches in your throat. He’s so close. With his every move, you can smell the leather coming off of him, it takes you everything not to close your eyes and just inhale his scent. He steers your hands towards his ass, placing them against the firm mounds. 

You know that this is a strip show. You know that you’ll be paying him afterward—and tipping him generously. 

But, fuck, the way he’s looking at you shouldn’t be allowed. Something dark swirling in them, something ravenous. His smile is knowing, teasing, like he can read your mind and it’s unnerving. How does anyone leave this strip club not being a mess for this man? 

His fingers delicately trace the column of your neck, moving over to your shoulder and coming back. He’s observing you, eyes fixed on you as he searches for any kind of discomfort. Then he gradually wraps his hand around your neck. There’s no pressure and it feels slightly ticklish. 

He moves closer in tune with the music, his lips brush against your neck, your nipples tightening at the touch. He takes your hands and guides them up his chest and broad shoulders. His lips are barely touching yours and you can feel his softly blowing breath. He thrusts his hips, clothed cock nearly touching your chest, suddenly you’re holding your breath wishing nothing more than his touch. His ass flexes under your hand, firm and warm. 

Till this point, you were trying really hard to ignore how wet you’ve gotten. Subtly, you’re moving your hips, trying to add pressure to your throbbing clit. The wet fabric of your underwear grazes against the bundle of nerves, dipping between your wet folds. Your chest heaves and you swallow down a whimper. It’s been so fucking long since you’ve felt anything like this. Tension curls around your thighs and moves up to your stomach, arousal heavy between your legs. He must be used to this right? You can’t be the only one to get this worked up. 

Even if Whiskey does notice your weak attempts at relief, he doesn’t say anything. 

All your senses narrow on him as he kneels in front of you, the music dropping with him. With a wink, he takes your hands and guides them down his chest while leaning back to sit on his heels. Your hands slide down his torso, once again just shy in touching his length. With a body roll, he comes back up and grips the armrests of your chair, popping up into a bridge position. Your thighs are spread and he drops his head low, you swear you feel his breath on you before he slithers up again, lips nearly brushing the valley of your breasts. His face is an inch away from yours, only charm. He tilts his head, coming in closer as if he’s about to kiss you, then moves away again. 

You’re mortified when you find yourself instinctively chasing after his lips. 

He hums, the sound barely audible over the music, his smile never fades, “Good girl,” he mutters as his hands slide down to gently grip the back of your thighs. 

You’ve never been more aware of not touching someone in your life.

Whiskey pushes himself closer and lifts your legs. Despite the clothes that separate the two of you, you feel the sinewy fabric of muscle hidden underneath as your legs frame his narrow hips. He presses closer, positioning his length against you. You feel it. His cock throbbing and aching under those tight, tight pants. Your throat moves, the muscles in your jaw clenched. He grazes one hand up and up and up until the width of it rests over your hip. 

He continues his grinding, his jeans rubbing tantalizingly against your inner thighs. You feel his hardness through the thin fabric separating you; all you can think is how good it feels to have him there. His hands rub lazily across your hips, leaving trails of fire in their wake. Whiskey's hands snake up your sides, his fingers weaving through the flesh of your waist. His pelvis moves rhythmically against yours, each thrust accompanied by a low moan that you’re desperately trying to bite down. 

“You seem tense darlin’,” his breath is hot and heavy in your ear as he gently nibbles the sensitive lobe, tantalizing you further. “Could see it in your eyes as soon as I spotted you alone at the bar. Let go, sweetheart. It’ll be our little secret,” His hips sway in and out, sending shocks of pleasure through your body. You feel your breath catch and become labored, is—is he actually suggesting what you think he’s suggesting? 

God, you just don’t have it in you to care anymore. You’re too worked up, every touch feels doubled with the way he moves, smiles, and looks at you.

You can’t help but relax into his motions. He moves slower, teasing you as he coaxes your inevitable fall. He builds you up, and normally, you would bask in the relief that he would tear you apart soon enough—but the thing is. . . you two aren’t actually having sex. There’s a very high chance the build-up would last forever, that is, until the time was up. You’re being edged in the best way possible but you fear you might have a hearty breakdown if you can’t, as how he put it; “let go”. 

He must’ve sensed your worries because for the first time, his smile falters, brows furrowing with concentration. His eyes flit over yours briefly before cupping your chin and raising your head. You expect him to say something, anything—maybe call you his good girl again—but nothing escapes those lush lips. Your eyes drop to the divot of his bottom lip and he leans closer, cock fully moving over your puffy clit. Your teeth sink into the inside of your cheek. Your stomach bottoms out, there’s a faint buzzing in your ears as the pressure in you grows and grows until you feel it in the back of your eyes. 

Fuck—Are you about to come? 

Nonononononono—

Your body spasms in pleasure, an orgasm building from deep within you as the music and his body surround you. He smells of pine and leather and the scent assaults your lungs. Your insides begin to clench and your muscles carry on a delirious dance of its own as warmth starts to spread in waves throughout your body. Your toes curl and every nerve ending in your body is brought alive. You squeeze your eyes shut,  your breath quickens. You swallow down all the noises that threaten to spill out. All you can think of is how embarrassing this is, your cheeks are left burning, your orgasm washing over you in large waves against your better judgment. 

Whiskey barely slows, still rolling his hips with the guide of the slowing song. He does pull back eventually and you’re grateful for it. The inside of your mouth is dry, your eyes watered, the inside of your panties soaked. 

“S-Shit,” you whisper. “I’m . . . I’m—” 

He lets out a content sigh, if anything, he seems delighted by the whole ordeal. 

“Like I said darlin’,” he rasps, breath ghosting your lips. “This will be our little secret.” 

The music ends and you know your time is up. 

Hanging out at a strip club isn’t actually as mortifying as you thought it would be. 

After your first encounter with Whiskey, you thought you would never step into the glitter and glam of the club ever again. However, after a particularly tough day, you found yourself at the door once more. The bartender, who later introduced himself as Tequila, greeted you enthusiastically, and from that point on, you became a regular.

Despite being a regular, names were still off-limits, and you didn't mind. Everyone was entitled to their privacy, and it made it all the more special for the time when Whiskey might eventually reveal his real name, if that day ever came. You're still not sure where you stand exactly on the spectrum between being a customer and a friend.

You could never afford another private dance though, at least not if you wanted to have enough money for food this month. Nevertheless, you were content with just watching the performances, and seeing Whiskey entertain endless bachelorette and bachelor parties was always a delight.

And hey, surprisingly, Tequila made some killer iced coffees, which you greatly appreciated since you weren't the biggest drinker and a bit of a lightweight. The last thing you wanted was to get drunk with Whiskey around, as you had already embarrassed yourself enough. However, he was a man of his word. He never mentioned the incident that took place during his performance. In fact, he behaved as if it never happened. For a minute there, you even thought that maybe you had imagined the whole thing.

However, there were moments when he would simply give you a certain look, and in that instant, you knew for certain that he did remember.

“Here you go gorgeous,” Tequila says, pulling you from your thought as he places an iced coffee in front of you. 

Your eyes widen as you see whipped cream with a lavish cherry on top. 'Is there a special occasion I'm not aware of?'

He shrugs, “I was bored, it’s a slow night.” 

Thanking him, you turn in your seat. It was a slow night, with only a handful of people present. There was a couple seeking a good time and a couple of corporate-looking ladies. Whiskey was entertaining one of them, employing his Southern charm as he winked at the woman and tipped his hat. Over the passing days, you had come to recognize his dance choreography. It seemed he genuinely enjoyed what he was doing, which made you happy in return.

Sometimes you do wish you had met the man outside of these walls though. You can’t fight the longing you feel whenever you see him. Other than being ridiculously attractive —and knowing how to make a woman come without touching them— he was kind to you that day. He saw how miserable you were and tried to cheer you up. Sure, you were a customer, but still, he didn’t have to go the extra mile. 

You often thought about meeting him at a supermarket or something instead. Would he be as kind? Would he be as attentive? Maybe he wouldn’t even give you a second glance as he buys a box of cereal—you frown, when you think about it like that, maybe meeting him in a strip club wasn’t that bad after all.  

Whiskey's dance comes to an end and you have to fight every fiber of your being not to eat him with your eyes like a hungry, horny, wolf. You try to look disinterested, eyes moving to one of the other dancers. It’s too late though, his gaze catches your own. He smiles as he struts towards you. 

“How are you sweetheart?” he asks, pink tongue swiping over his bottom lip. “Is Tequila here treatin’ you well?” 

“Isn’t it obvious?” You grin, gesturing to the whipped cream and cherry on top, as if it's obvious. His eyes drop to the fruit, glistening and wet. Without waiting for you to say anything, he picks up the fruit by the stem and sticks his tongue out. He catches the cherry with his lips, slowly drawing it into his mouth, and you watch, transfixed, as he chews. His jaw works over the cherry, then, a moment later, he shows you his tongue once more. 

On the tip of it, lays a neatly knotted stem. 

“Holy hell,” you whisper. “I should be mad because I was looking forward to that cherry but I’m too impressed.��� 

With two fingers Whiskey calls for Tequila, “Get the pretty lady another cherry,” he says. 

“Show off,” the other man mutters but complies anyway. A quick moment later, there’s another cherry on a bed of white. 

You eye him warily, “You’re not gonna eat this one too, are you?” 

He laughs, “No darlin’. Don’t worry, enjoy your overly sweetened fruit.” 

Still not trusting him, holding it by the stem, you stick the cherry between your lips and quickly chew. He draws his brows together, “No show?” 

“If I was that talented with my tongue I wouldn’t be single.” 

“There’s more to relationships than a good tongue,” he answers. “I would know.” 

He’s single? 

You don’t know why the revelation shocks you, but it does. You didn’t want to assume anything based on his career choice and by personality alone, you didn’t really think he would be in the same boat as you. 

“You can act a little less surprised you know,” he teases, leaning against the bar with a curled lip. 

“S-Sorry, I just never thought you would be single you’re just so. . .” cutting yourself off, you press your lips together. He leans closer, teasing smile now shifting into a full toothy grin. 

“So. . . what?” he asks. His finger dips into the whipped cream, and he brings it to his lips, his deep gaze never leaving yours as he sucks it off slowly. “Dazzling, charming, talented?” 

Your throat goes dry and you have to swallow, “Well yes, all of those and. . . handsome.” 

“Compliments don’t get you a free dance, sweetheart,” he winks. “Just sayin’.” 

Your lips quiver, a hesitant smile curving your lips. Your cheeks warm under his gaze. 

Talking to him comes easy to you. You also enjoy his confidence, he knows he’s good looking and he doesn’t shame you for stating it, or make you feel less of a person for admitting. It’s freeing. Maybe that’s why you’re always visiting the club. He grants you a place to just be yourself, even if he does so intentionally or not, you appreciate it. 

“You, giving out a free dance?” you exaggerate every word, you mirror his movement and stick two fingers in the whipped cream. You bring them to your lips, savoring the sweetness. It’s subtle, but you catch the way his breath hitches. Your smile grows. “I never would expect such a thing.” 

“Good,” his voice drops dangerously low, almost sounding like a growl. Inching closer, his breath fans the side of your neck and you feel the rough scrape of his mustache against the shell of your ear. A whimper rattles your throat. “I would hate to be misunderstood.” 

He pulls back with a wink, he flashes you his canines, and drags his tongue over them. “See you around, sunshine,” he says, voice returning to normal. The words die in your throat as he disappears towards the back, presumably to get ready for his next show. 

You’re left staring, mouth agape. Flustered, you stir your iced coffee to feel the soothing sound of ice clanking around. 

You frown when you realize all the ice had melted.

Thank you for reading everyone! This one definitely tuckered me out but I think it ended up not being that bad?

Normally this was always going to be a two-parter but then the first part ended up being way longer than I intended (almost 8k) so I decided to split it into two chapters since didn't want it to be too long. Therefore, this little series will be three parts in total. I've written most of chapter two since it was meant to be a part of chapter one so it'll be out relatively quick!

That's it for now, sending everyone love and many hugs 💜

[lovelyflora21]

I hate everyone else in the world (but you)

Summary: Drunk and in pain, Leon had an affinity for saying things he might not have meant to. Twice he did so. One was able to offer solace and comfort, the other the opposite. 

Pairing: Leon S Kennedy x Fem!Reader

Tags: TW! Alcohol abuse, slight mentions of PTSD, depression. Angst. Hurt. 

A/n: Hello! So this is my first attempt at writing again after such a long ass hiatus and break! This is also my very first (and hopefully not the last) attempt on writing a fic for Leon lol, this one’s gonna be a bit angsty! I wrote this with Vendetta!Leon and DI!Leon in mind, inspired by that one TikTok audio from Euphoria’s Rue and Jules’ scene and her infamous quote with TV Girl’s Not Allowed, playing in the background. 

Hopefully you guys will like this one as much as I like writing it! Enjoy!

Wc: 1.5k

I hate everyone else in the world but you…

Was what Leon had drunkenly told her once. So lost in his drunken stupor that he’d blurted out those words in a brief moment of vulnerability and honesty. He might’ve as well said those three words instead. But it was the truth, and Leon S Kennedy was no liar. He was never good with lies anyways, why try now? And in response, she simply gave him that God-forsaken half smile of hers. Leon remembered vividly, despite being shit-faced drunk, how she simply shook her head then helped him off the couch to clean up. 

I know. She whispered, more like to herself than to him. Then everything else after that was a blur. 

It was sort of a routine. After that particular nightmare of a mission, Leon would drown himself in endless bottles of Jack Daniels or whatever alcoholic beverage he could lay his hands on. He was pretty much banned from the local bar he’d frequented so often, and no for the record, it wasn’t because he’d start up unnecessary shit–no. It was because of how much he’d drunk; to the point that the bartenders and keepers made it a point that they were concerned with the amount of alcohol he’d swallow in one seating. 

Concerned. Leon finds it rather funny and ironic, in a way that; bars made money from selling alcohol to anyone who would be drinking them and yet here he was, getting banned all because they were concerned with him? He was a regular, he didn’t mind burning his money on alcohol! They should have been grateful! He was a regular, a paying one at that and he doesn’t start up shit! They were making money! And yet, he got banned anyway. 

In reality, concerned was an understatement…

So he figured, what the hell right? He’s just gonna find an alternative, buy some from the local bodega or some shit and get shit-faced drunk in the comforts of his somber and dark, shitty apartment. 

The apartment was fine before all this, decorated it minimalistically so he didn’t have too much stuff piling up and it wouldn’t be too much of a hassle for him to look after; but after the–after it happened, he just didn’t care enough to look after the damn place. Hell, he barely looked after himself. Leon was barely even showering. He’d shower once every two or three days, and didn't even care at all if people were giving him weird and funny looks for how disheveled he looked. Leon used to be pretty active and social, he would go for a light jog every morning before work or in the evenings after work, then shower and have dinner or maybe go on dates with her. But now? Now, his routine consisted of waking up in the middle of the day, eat whatever leftover was in the fridge, go back to sleep, wake up again then get so drunk he could barely remember anything then pass out on the couch then wake up with the worst hangover and repeat the same damned thing all over again. Rinse and repeat. Rinse and repeat. 

It wasn’t helping him at all that the DSO was putting him on a temporary break too. He’d honestly much prefer to be sitting on his desk working on reports than rotting and wasting away like this. 

But then she caught wind of this. This revelation. That the great, brave and strong Leon S Kennedy; the renowned agent that helped rescue the President’s Daughter and formed the DSO, has now become lessened to that of a drunk alcoholic. So jaded and bitter with the loss of his–no, no, he became jaded after, after…after it happened. That he resorted to alcohol rather than face his issues head on. Rather than see a shrink and work on it.

So the first time she came back around, it wasn’t easy. To have her, his muse, his flower, the only innocent and untouched being in his life, sees him this messed up and broken. He lashed out at her at first, then he broke down. For the first time. For the first time in what felt like forever, he was finally able to cry. 

It’s okay, cry it out, let it all out. I’m here. Nothing’s gonna hurt you. I’m not letting you go. I got you. 

Then he looked into her eyes and said it. 

I hate everyone else in the world but you…

And the rest was history.

Then it was another new routine for him. She was always there, looking after him…looking after the place. Made sure he was eating, made sure he’d get cleaned up, made sure he was sleeping properly. 

But he still couldn’t get over his drinking problems. Not anytime soon it seems…

Other people would have already abandoned him by now. Said it was all in vain, said he’d destroy her before he could ever get better. But she, she never gave up on him. 

Until one night…

Leon had promised her, for a day, he wouldn’t touch anything that has alcohol in it and he’d finally go to therapy. It was paid and provided for by the DSO, as they should be. But he didn’t…

He never attended that one session (or the sessions before and after, she should’ve known better), instead that afternoon he went to the nearest bodega and got himself bottles of Jack Daniels. Then he went back home and got shit-faced drunk. Again. Like always. 

And when she came over later in the evening, after she got off work; she was furious. More disappointed than furious, really. To find out that he didn’t go to therapy and he was drunk.

Then it was some back and forth arguing and Leon said some things he didn’t mean to. 

Typical of a drunk, how typical of Leon.

See, the thing is, she was one to believe that; whatever came out from someone’s mouth whenever they were drunk meant that it was the raw and most unfiltered truth they wish they could’ve said out loud sober.

So when Leon said, “What is this now, you think you could nurse me back to the old Leon?! You thought out of all the people in this whole goddamn world, you could be the one to save me from being, from being this?! I tell you what sweetheart, you never cared about me, what you do have is a savior complex!” 

It had been even uncharacteristic of Leon to say those things. And out of all the people he knew, towards her, too. 

Cruel would be an understatement. 

Leon wished he had stopped at that. Wished he had stopped and apologized to her after, but nope. He didn’t. Instead, when he saw her tear-filled eyes and her pursed lips, he went and sprinkle some salt on her wound. 

“What now, you gonna cry and run away? Gonna cut me off too like how you cut off your other friends and exes? Right, you do. Because that’s what you always do! Run away and cut off everyone whoever said an ounce of truth to you, not wronged you–no, the truth!”

Then there was silence, save for his hard and heavy breathing that filled the space. 

Leon remembers and forgets a lot of things. This is one that he’d hate to remember and unable to forget.

He remembered the way she stepped back, looked into his eyes and said it. 

I hate you. 

Then she disappeared from his apartment and disappeared from his life as well, after making it clear that she was done.

He tried reaching out to her, that very same night. Then the days that followed after, the weeks after. After Colorado. After New York. 

She disappeared. Just like that. 

So Leon gave up on looking for her. 

And after a year, he thought he’d already forgotten about her completely. Thought he’d moved on.

He thought, after going to therapy, talking to his friends more and avoiding alcohol as much as possible; he’d finally move past that night. Move past her.

But it seemed he was wrong. 

So when Leon was strolling down the streets of San Francisco during his free time, before his supposed mission–and he thought he’d heard a familiar voice, he couldn’t help but to look towards the source of that angelic voice. Could it be…?

And there she was. Gorgeous as always. Beautiful and bright, warm like the morning’s first ray of sunshine. A basket of flowers and groceries hung on her elbow. 

So she did move away. That’d explain a lot. 

Leon’s body had a mind of its own, approaching her before he could even process everything. 

Hey there.

And suddenly everything came flooding back to him.

I hate everyone else in the world but you

But you, you who I’ve hurt so much more than anyone else in the world. 

You who didn’t deserve the pain I had inflicted upon you. It was unfair. And I am so so so sorry. Wish I could take it all back. You didn’t deserve it. And then there was silence between him and her. Two birds, once of the same feather; and now? Now on opposite ends.

[iceman-kazansky]

just fluffy niki lauda content, please. that's all i need. pure. tooth-rotting. fluff.

Before Breakfast

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊·̩̩̥͙·̩̩̥͙＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊·̩̩̥͙·̩̩̥͙＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊·̩̩̥͙

Requested by: Anon

Request: Answered above

Pairings: Niki Lauda x F!reader

Warnings: Kissing. That's it, I believe. Pure sappy, tooth-rotting fluff, as requested :)

Word Count: 660

A/n: Hi anon! I hope I wrote this to your liking! I had so much fun writing for Niki, and I hope you enjoyed what I created! This can be interpreted as either Daniel Bruhl Niki Lauda, as seen in Rush, or just normal Niki, it's really up to readers interpretation.

Taglist: none

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊·̩̩̥͙·̩̩̥͙＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊·̩̩̥͙·̩̩̥͙＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊·̩̩̥͙

Warm, milky rays of sunlight dripped through the curtains like honey, casting a soft glow on your face. The soft rays illuminated a portion of the floor and bed, displaying the picturesque scene. The sun’s gentle glow on the morning air the only disturbance to the setting.

A soft mumble, followed by a twitch of your unconscious eyelids under the light, prompted you awake. Yawning softly, you opened your eyes, your gaze immediately settling on none other than Niki’s peaceful face. 

You’d found yourself wrapped securely in the protective hold of the Austrian, his long arms resting against your waist, holding you close to him. The blankets and sheets had tangled around the two of you as you slept, wrapping you together in an embrace. Niki’s chest rose and fell softly as he slept, the rhythmic beating of his heart thumping softly against your hand, providing you with a soft, lullaby-like effect that gave you comfort. When you inhaled, his scent enveloped you, the faint, but distinct, smell of his cologne still lingering on his skin and clothes.

A delicate smile stretched onto your lips as you sighed gently, observing Niki. The Austrian formula one driver peacefully asleep, holding you against his chest. With careful precision, you reached your arms up, your hands pushing some of his hair from his forehead before slowly transitioning to tangle in his soft brown locks.

Niki emits a low grumble as you massage his scalp and play with his hair, his face scrunching after a moment. Reaching up, you press a soft kiss to his jaw, a smile finding its way onto your face again. “Goodmorning,” you greet, sighing softly in his arms.

Slowly, Niki's eyes blink open, the soft brown irises like milk chocolate. A small smile stretches onto his features, and he places a chaste kiss of his own against your forehead lovingly. He mumbles a good morning back, tightening his grip around you momentarily while he stretches.

“Do you want breakfast?” You ask, your voice a quiet hum. Admittedly, you did not want to leave his embrace, but you were willing to if he wanted breakfast. 

A gentle sigh leaves Niki’s mouth, “I do, but I don't want you to leave,” he admits. Niki often was up by now, but to him, this morning was different. He wanted you to stay here. With him. Cuddling against him in the warm, early hours of the day, the blankets keeping you together.

You chuckle airily at him, your hands still twirling his brown hair absent-mindedly. “Okay then, I won’t.”

Niki sighed contentedly, his eyes closing again as you continued playing with his coffee-coloured hair, your digits occasionally brushing against his scalp in soothing, mindful motions, emitting soft sighs of pleasure from the Austrian man. He felt so euphoric, tangled up with you. Enraptured by your gentle touch and your honeyed voice, dripping in his ear. He was in such a bliss that he’d found himself dozing off again, the feel of you in his arms comforting him as sleep overtook him once more.

Together, you both fell back asleep. Each others presence enough to give you a solace in which you found yourself at peace within the others arms. Pressed together, the only sounds emitted from the room being soft snores of sleep. Neither of you minded, however. Both of you too wrapped up in the love for the other to care.

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊·̩̩̥͙·̩̩̥͙＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊·̩̩̥͙·̩̩̥͙＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊·̩̩̥͙

ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀʟɪꜱᴛ || ᴛᴀɢʟɪꜱᴛ || ɴᴀᴠɪɢᴀᴛɪᴏɴ

𝐋𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐦𝐲 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤? 𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐠! 𝐈𝐭'𝐬 𝐠𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐥𝐲 𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝!

[charlesslut16]

-a journey through mental health-

summary: Daniel sees you changing your behavior and talks with you about it...

PAIRING: daniel ricciardo x fem!reader

WARNINGS: mental health talk!

note: If you need help with anything, i'm always here for you, my loves

december masterlist ; masterlist   

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting a warm glow over the tranquil landscape, Daniel Ricciardo sat beside his girlfriend, you, your eyes clouded with a heaviness he had never seen before.

Daniel had always experienced his girlfriend, as the brightest ray of sunshine, like nothing bad had ever touched her. And he so wished that it could have been true, even if he knew in his heart that this hope could not be fulfilled.

You were nestled on a cozy blanket under the shade of a sprawling oak tree, a place you often sought solace in each other's company. It was your comfort place. Forever.

Daniel noticed the subtle shifts in your demeanor over the past few weeks. Your laughter seemed forced, your smile fleeting, and your once bright eyes now held a hint of sorrow.

He could no longer ignore the invisible barrier that seemed to separate you from him, and he knew he couldn't sit idly by any longer. Daniel knew that he needed to say something, to help you, his rock.

"Hey, my love," Daniel said softly, reaching out to gently grasp your hand. He always did this, so you would think it was something so bad, but enough to let you know that this was important.

"You've seemed a little off lately. Is everything okay?"

His words hung in the air, lingering in the space between you like a delicate thread. You sighed, your shoulders slumping under the weight of your hidden burdens.

For weeks, you had tried to mask your struggles, but now, sitting beside Daniel, you couldn't bear to keep up the facade any longer. Your facade had crumbled and laid bare to Daniel.

"I... I don't know, Daniel," you confessed, your voice barely above a whisper. "I've been feeling... lost. Like I'm drowning in my own thoughts, and I can't find my way back to the surface."

Daniel's heart clenched at your words, the pain evident in your voice cutting through him like a knife. He had always admired your strength and resilience, but now, seeing your vulnerability laid bare before him, he felt a surge of protectiveness wash over him.

Tears started to show in your eyes as you leaned into his embrace, finding solace in his reassuring presence. "I'm sorry, Dan," you murmured, her voice choked with emotion. "I don't mean to burden you with my struggles."

"Hey, it's okay," Daniel murmured gently, pulling you into his warm and safe embrace. "You don't have to face this alone. I'm here for you, always. Do not forget this, ever."

Tears welled in your eyes as you buried your face in his chest, your grip on him tightening, as if you feared he would disappear if you let go. At that moment, Daniel vowed to be your rock, your anchor in the storm raging within you.

Just as you were for him.

"You're not alone in this, love," Daniel whispered lovely, pressing a gentle kiss to the top of your head. "We'll get through this together, one step at a time. No rush."

And so, beneath the starlit sky, Daniel held you close, his arms a shield against the darkness that threatened to consume you. He hated himself for not seeing this sooner.

With each whispered word of reassurance, he reminded you that you were loved, cherished, and worthy of all the happiness in the world. And he would gladly give it to you.

As you sat in the quiet comfort of each other's arms, you felt a glimmer of hope stir within your heart. With Daniel by your side, you knew you could weather any storm, no matter how fierce.

At that moment, amidst the shadows of uncertainty, their love shone brighter than ever before.

And as the night stretched on, Daniel held you close, whispering words of love and reassurance until the darkness gave way to the light of a new day.

In the days that followed, Daniel stood by your side as you embarked on the journey toward healing. Together, you faced the highs and lows, the triumphs and setbacks, knowing that as long as you had each other, you could weather any storm.

And though the road ahead was fraught with challenges, Daniel remained steadfast in his love and support, a beacon of hope guiding you through the darkest of nights.

For in his arms, she found solace, strength, and the courage to believe that brighter days were just beyond the horizon.

[agentstarkid]

AN ETERNAL LOVE BULLSHIT ✦ DR3

Based on this ask

✦ PAIRING: daniel ricciardo x famous!latina!reader

✦ CHECKERED FLAG: 3.7K words (I tried to keep it short, oops)

✦ TRACK LIMITS: angst, self-doubt, crying, feelings of not being enough, heartbreak.

✦ MAY'S RADIO: I've had this on my drafts, ruminating on it for days, soooo I hope you guys like it. Vitto, Iza and Chloe are the real MVPs of this chapter! Queens uplifting another Queen 💅🏽💖 This was fun to write! Thank you so much nonnie for this idea! ilysm <3 p.s. can y'all spot the song references? 👀

This is set during Saudade. | Everything between "—" and italized are flashbacks.

< previous chapter | series masterlist | general masterlist | next chapter >

The end of April in California had days of clear skies, endless blue, and a gentle breeze carrying the sweet scent of blooming flowers. The sun shone warmly, casting a golden glow over everything it touched, yet the cheerful weather felt almost mocking to her current state.

Her guitar lay across her lap, repurposed as a makeshift table for the notebook where she hastily scribbled words, each one an attempt to capture the storm of emotions swirling within her. The grass beneath her was cool and grounding, but it did little to tether her to the present. Every line she wrote was a desperate attempt to process the pain, to make sense of the abrupt void he had left behind. 

Life moved on around her with an indifferent rhythm, but her mind was still stuck replaying the scenes in a Bahraini hotel room on a fateful Friday morning in March. She was stuck, a relic in a world that had already moved on, trapped in the shadow of what once was. The ache in her heart was a constant companion, a reminder that she was still right where he left her, struggling to find a way back to herself.

Her pen moved frantically across the pages, as if the act of writing could somehow release the torment inside her. But each word, each lyric, only seemed to root her more firmly in the past. The guitar beneath her fingers, once a source of joy and creativity, now felt like a conduit for her sorrow. She was lost in her own words, hoping that somewhere in the tangled mess of emotions, she might find a way to heal.

But amidst the ache, she found solace in the unwavering support of her friends. 

Since landing in Los Angeles, her friends had been her rock. When days of isolation had left her feeling like a shell of herself, Vitto and Andrew had intervened, offering her refuge in their home outside the city. Their house, tucked away from the relentless glare of cameras and the whirlwind of drama, had become a sanctuary. The quiet of their surroundings was a balm for her frayed nerves.

Baby Iza, their little bundle of joy, at almost 1 year old, was a constant source of comfort. The child's tiny hands and infectious giggles seemed to have an almost magical ability to lift her spirits. It was as if Izabele could sense her sadness and made it her mission to shower her with love and affection. 

With the sun casting gentle rays through the window, the child would toddle into the room with her tiny feet pattering softly on the floor. Her face, a picture of innocent determination, was often lit up by a bright smile. She would clutch a small toy in her chubby hands—a plush animal or a colorful block—and make a beeline for her godmother, as if to say, “Here, play with me. Everything will be okay.”

Sitting down beside her, Iza would arrange her toys with meticulous care, her eyes occasionally glancing up to gauge her mood. They would sit together in quiet companionship, the simple act of play bringing a semblance of peace.

As the night fell and the room grew dim, she would make her way to her aunt's side once more, but this time with a special gesture. She would carry one of her favorite teddy bears, its soft fur worn from countless hugs—she recognized it as the one that Daniel had gifted Iza when she was born. 

Her sleepy eyes would barely stay open, and the pacifier bobbing gently in her mouth gave her a serene, dreamlike appearance. She would approach her aunt with the bear in tow, offering it with the sincerity only a child can muster. The gesture, simple yet profound, was Iza’s way of offering comfort and reassurance. The irony wasn’t lost on her, as the comfort offered by the bear was tied to the person who had broken her heart.

Despite the tangled emotions that the bear represented, she’d accept the gesture with a quiet grace. Each night, she would clutch the teddy bear tightly in her arms as she lay in bed, she would close her eyes and allow the bear’s presence to soothe her. It was a small, ironic comfort, a connection to a past she was still grappling with. She never spoke of it to anyone, keeping this bittersweet detail to herself. 

Vitto and Andrew's kindness, along with Baby Iza’s innocent charm, and Fio and Danna’s constant facetime calls—and impromptu visits—, were her anchors, grounding her in a time of turbulence.

Rumors had started circulating about Daniel moving on with Heidi, emerging just two weeks after their breakup. As she heard whispers and saw the headlines, she felt a deep internal conflict. One part of her mind tried to dismiss the rumors, knowing all too well how the business thrived on gossip and sensationalism. She had been in this world long enough to recognize how quickly false narratives could spread and how little they sometimes reflected the truth.

Yet, another part of her, the part that had been wounded by every argument they’d ever had about their future, couldn’t silence the inner voice that screamed she was a fool. It was the same voice that had questioned every promise, every declaration of eternal love Daniel had made. How could someone profess to love her, to call her the love of their life—a million times—, to talk about rings and cradles, and then, almost as soon as it was over, move on to someone new?

But a single text changed her entire world.

The moment she received confirmation from Chloe that the rumors were true, a wave of crushing disappointment and pain washed over her. It felt as if the ground beneath her had given way, leaving her in a freefall of disbelief and heartache. The confirmation struck her like a physical blow, knocking the breath from her lungs and leaving her feeling hollow inside.

The betrayal was sharper than she could have ever imagined. Daniel, the person she had known better than herself, had indeed moved on after only two weeks. The image she had clung to, the person she had given the benefit of the doubt, shattered into a thousand irreparable pieces. How could someone who had claimed to love her so deeply and had spoken of a future together move on so swiftly? The realization was a bitter, choking pill to swallow.

Her heart ached with a profound sense of loss, not just of the relationship but of the person she thought Daniel was. The trust she had placed in him, the dreams they had shared, all felt like a cruel joke. She felt duped, as if she had been sold a "get-love-quick" scheme by someone who never intended to follow through on his promises. The sense of being deceived cut deeply, leaving a wound that seemed impossible to heal.

She sat there, gripping her pen tightly, her mind swirling with the betrayal she felt so deeply. Without a moment’s pause, her pen began to race across the pages of her notebook, pouring out the raw, unfiltered emotions she could no longer contain. The lyrics flowed from her as if they were the only way to make sense of the chaos within:

And ain't it funny

How you ran to her the second that we called it quits? 

And ain't it funny how you said you were friends? 

Now it sure as hell don't look like it 

You betrayed me 

And I know that you'll never feel sorry 

For the way I hurt, yeah 

You'd talk to her 

When we were together 

Loved you at your worst 

But that didn't matter 

It took you two weeks 

To go off and date her 

Guess you didn't cheat 

But you're still a traitor

With each line, she felt the searing pain of his betrayal more acutely. How could he have moved on so quickly? The words “two weeks” echoed in her mind like a relentless drumbeat, reminding her of how little time it had taken for him to replace her. The sense of being betrayed, of having her trust shattered, was almost unbearable. She had loved him at his worst, given him everything, and yet it had taken him mere days to discard their love and move on to someone new.

The realization that she was right, that he had been talking to her while they were still together added salt to the wound. It made every moment they had shared feel tainted, every promise he had made feel like a lie. The anger and hurt intertwined, fueling the lyrics that poured out of her. He might not have cheated in the traditional sense, but the emotional betrayal was just as devastating, if not more so. To her, he was a traitor, someone who had violated the sacred trust of their relationship.

The pen in her hand paused for the first time in days, the words unable to flow as freely as before. The grief was too raw, too overwhelming to articulate. She felt an intense, suffocating sadness, mixed with anger and a sense of foolishness for believing in him. Her eyes burned with unshed tears, and her chest tightened with the weight of unspoken emotions.

Her phone storage has been filled with voice notes for the past weeks, but the number has elevated exponentially since the news had hit. Her chat with her producer has been overflowing with “What do you think of this?”, demos shared between them back and forth. 

For moments, she was consumed by raw anger, her pen becoming a weapon as she furiously wrote songs that painted him as the villain he had become in her eyes. She felt the fierce determination to make him know—and if his treacherous heart allowed, to feel—her pain.

Each line dripped with venom and sorrow, a raw portrayal of the anguish he had inflicted upon her. The thought of him reading her words and realizing the depth of her suffering provided a fleeting sense of power and justice.

But after the anger came a deep, suffocating depression. The reality of his betrayal settled over her like a heavy, oppressive fog. Each day felt like a battle to simply get out of bed, and her once vibrant spirit seemed to wither under the weight of her grief. She found herself crying at the smallest things, her emotions a raw, open wound that refused to heal.

—

One night Vitto found her in bed, her cheeks tear-stained and her eyes red and swollen, looking every bit as miserable as she felt inside. Without a word, Vitto quickly gathered her in her arms, holding her tightly as the heart-shattering sobs began anew. The weight of her friend’s pain pressed heavily on Vitto’s heart, but she held her close, whispering kind and reassuring words, trying to contain the pieces of her shattered glass heart.

In a voice barely above a whisper, filled with desperation and heartbreak, she asked the questions that had been gnawing at her soul. “Why can't it be me for once, Vitto? Why can't someone choose me?” Her voice cracked with the weight of the pain she felt. “Is it so hard to love me? What's so wrong with me that no one has the will to stay?”

Vitto's heart ached at the sight of her friend so broken, so lost in her despair. She tightened her hold, pulling her closer as if she could shield her from the cruel thoughts that plagued her mind. “There's nothing wrong with you,” Vitto whispered back, her voice gentle but firm. “You are so easy to love, fofinha, and anyone who doesn't see that is a fool.” She prayed that her friend would see the truth in her words. “You deserve someone who sees you for the amazing person you are and who will never let you go.”

Vitto rocked her gently, smoothing her hair and murmuring softly. “You’re strong,” she whispered. “Stronger than you know. You’ll get through this, one step at a time. You have us, and we’re not going anywhere.”

That night, after the tears had subsided, she found herself sitting on the windowsill, staring out into the vast, indifferent sky. The weight of her grief pressed down on her chest as she gazed at the stars, feeling more alone than ever. 

In the quiet darkness, she whispered her desperate plea to any entity that might be listening. She wasn’t asking for fame or fortune, but for something much simpler and infinitely more precious: love. A love that wasn’t for the artist she became on stage or the persona she put on for the cameras, but for her—the real her, with all her flaws, insecurities, and hidden depths.

She was on her knees, metaphorically, begging for someone to change her fate, to alter the prophecy that seemed to doom her to be always left behind. Why couldn’t someone love her as fiercely as she loved them—or even harder?. 

The question lingered in the air, a painful echo of her deepest fears. She longed for someone who would choose her, who wouldn’t toss her aside once the initial novelty wore off and someone else, shiny and new, came along.

The night air was cool against her skin, a stark contrast to the burning ache inside her. She closed her eyes, letting the silent tears fall, each one a small release of the pain she carried. 

She wasn’t asking for much, just someone who would love her, not for what she represented, but for who she truly was. Someone who would see her, really see her, and still choose to stay. The silence of the night offered no answers, but she hoped—prayed—that somewhere, someone would hear her and bring her the love she so desperately craved. The stars offered no answers, but in the quiet of the night, she found a sliver of solace in the act of voicing her deepest wish.

—

The phone rang late in the evening, its sound piercing the quiet of the room. She hesitated for a moment, glancing at the screen. Chloe's name flashed across it, and a part of her almost didn’t want to pick up. But Chloe had been there for her in ways she hadn’t expected, turning from an acquaintance into one of her closest friends. With a deep breath, she answered.

“Hey,” she said softly, trying to mask the exhaustion in her voice.

“Hey, you,” Chloe replied, her tone gentle, almost cautious. “I just wanted to check in on you. How are you holding up?”

There was a brief silence, the kind that stretches out when you’re trying to find the right words to explain a pain that feels impossible to describe. “I’m… surviving, I guess. It’s been hard,” she admitted, her voice wavering.

Chloe sighed on the other end, a mix of empathy and frustration evident in her breath. “I’m so sorry. I can’t even begin to imagine what you’re going through. And I hate that I had to be the one to confirm it. You deserve so much better.” 

Her heart ached at the sincerity in Chloe’s words. “I don’t even know what hurts more—the fact that he moved on so quickly, or that I still can’t hate him for it. I feel like such an idiot, holding on to the person I thought he was.”

“You’re not an idiot,” Chloe reassured her. “You loved him, and you believed in him. There’s nothing wrong with that. But you have to remember that this isn’t about you, it’s about him and his inability to recognize what he had.”

A sad smile tugged at the corners of her lips. “Thank you. It’s just… I keep asking myself how someone can move on so quickly. I thought what we had was real. We talked about a future, Chloe. The farm, rings, babies, all of it. And then, two weeks after we break up, he’s with someone else? It just… it doesn’t make sense.” she said, her voice cracking. “How could he say all those things to me, make all those promises, and then just... move on? Like I never mattered.”

Chloe hesitated, knowing that what she had to say might sting, but also feeling that honesty was necessary. “I know, and I wish I had the right words to make it better. I don’t understand it either. But people… they’re complicated, and sometimes they don’t even realize the damage they’re causing until it’s too late. Sometimes-” she let out a sigh, “Sometimes people make decisions that don’t make any sense, that hurt the ones they’re supposed to care about the most. But that’s on him, not you. You’re allowed to grieve, to be angry, to feel everything you’re feeling.”

“Do you think he ever really loved me?” The question slipped out before she could stop it, her voice barely above a whisper. It was a question that had haunted her since the confirmation of Daniel’s new relationship, and now it hung in the air between them, heavy and loaded with vulnerability.

Chloe paused, her heart aching for her friend. “I think… I think he loved you in the way he knew how, but maybe that wasn’t the way you deserved to be loved. And that’s not your fault. It’s his loss, really. You gave him everything, and he’s the one who couldn’t appreciate it.”

Tears welled up in her eyes, but she fought them back. “It just hurts so much, you know? I keep thinking that if I had done something differently, if I had been better, maybe things would have turned out differently.”

“Don’t do that to yourself,” Chloe said firmly. “You did nothing wrong. You were yourself, and that should have been enough. He’s the one who couldn’t see what he had in front of him. But I see you, and so do the people who really care about you. You’re not alone in this.”

The girl swallowed the lump in her throat, grateful for Chloe’s words, for her friendship. “Thank you, Chloe. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“You don’t have to thank me. I’m here for you, no matter what,” Chloe replied warmly. 

As the conversation between the girl and Chloe lingered, an uncomfortable question bubbled up within her. She hesitated, biting her lip before finally asking, “Chloe, how is Heidi? Is she… nice? She looks like she is.”

Chloe paused on the other end, considering her words carefully. “She is nice,” she admitted softly. “She’s kind and sweet, and she seems like a good person.”

The girl swallowed hard, a mix of emotions swirling in her chest. “I figured as much,” she said, her voice tinged with a quiet resignation. “At the beginning, I wanted to tear her apart, you know? I wanted to pick out every flaw she had, convince myself she wasn’t good enough. But I couldn’t do that… because she just looks so nice and kind. It’s almost like it made everything worse, knowing that I couldn’t even hate her.”

Chloe sighed, understanding the conflict in her friend’s heart. “It’s natural to feel that way, to want to protect yourself by finding reasons to dislike her. But you’re also showing so much strength by acknowledging that she’s not the enemy. It’s okay to feel conflicted.”

The girl nodded, though her throat tightened. “I just wish it didn’t hurt so much, Chloe. I wish I could be happy for him, for them. But it’s hard when it feels like I’ve been discarded, replaced by someone who seems perfect in every way.”

“Listen,” Chloe said, her voice firm yet gentle, “you’re human, and it’s okay to feel hurt and conflicted. But don’t let those feelings define you. You’re more than what he made you feel, and you deserve someone who will see all of you—the good, the bad, and everything in between”

“I know,” she whispered, though the knowledge didn’t make the pain any easier to bear. “It’s just hard to accept sometimes.”

“It is,” Chloe agreed. “But you’ll get there. One step at a time. And remember, just because she’s nice doesn’t mean your feelings aren’t valid. You’re allowed to grieve what you’ve lost, even if it’s complicated.”

—

Slowly, the depression began to give way to a semblance of acceptance—or something that resembled it. It wasn’t forgiveness, nor was it forgetting, but a grudging acknowledgment that clinging to the pain and anger would only prolong her agony.

She continued to write, but the tone of her lyrics shifted. They were still tinged with sadness and loss, but there was also a hint of desperation and sometimes hope.

We broke up a month ago

Your friends are mine, you know, I know

You've moved on, found someone new

One more girl who brings out the better in you.

[...]

And do you tell her she's the most beautiful girl you've ever seen?

An eternal love bullshit you know you'll never mean

Remember when I believed you meant it when you said it first to me?

And now I'm pickin' her apart

Like cuttin' her down will make you miss my wretched heart

But she's beautiful, she looks kind

She probably gives you butterflies.

[...]

I hope you're happy

I wish you all the best, really

Say you love her, baby, just not like you loved me

And think of me fondly when your hands are on her

I hope you're happy, but don't be happier.

Acceptance came in small, painful increments. It was in the quiet moments when Baby Iza’s tiny hand rested on her cheek, or when Vitto and Andrew’s unwavering support reminded her that she was not alone. It was in the act of writing itself, where she could pour out her heart and begin to untangle the threads of grief and loss.

As she sat on the grass, the late afternoon sun casting long shadows around her, she realized that while Daniel’s betrayal had broken her, it had not destroyed her. She would rebuild herself, piece by piece, word by word, until she was whole again. Despite everything, she was still standing.

Through the anger, the depression, and the acceptance, she learned that she had the strength to endure. The scars from this heartbreak would always be there, but they would also be a testament to her resilience and her capacity to heal. And in those moments of writing, she knew she would emerge from this experience stronger, wiser, and ready to embrace whatever the future held.

[amberjazmyn]

so much blood 💔

pairing : daniel ricciardo x fem!reader

summary : daniel's wife, alessandra, at a grand prix, suffers from an awfully traumatic late misarriage at five months, right at the 24-week mark where it's considered a stillbirth. the ricciardo's had been trying for children for ages when she miscarries their baby in the bathroom after bleeding profusely before the wags find her. 

warnings :  mentions of miscarriage, blood, tears, hospital, angst, infertility

a/n :  i have already written this multiple times and now i wanted to write it for danny ric. unlike the character in this one-shot, i have never (thankfully) experienced a miscarriage/ectopic pregnancy/ stillbirth etc, however, i do know people who have gone through that and it's soul-destroying. however, this does not mean by any means that i am glorifying or positively promoting the physical and mental tolls that miscarriages have on families as it is awful and very traumatizing. this is just a thing of fiction that i have written with no intentional means to harm anyone. this will also be in lowercase because i just feel like it will set the tone if it's written in all lowercase

attending grand prix's with the rest of the f1 grid was most probably alessandra ricciardo's, the wife of daniel ricciardo, favourite thing to do. especially now that she was carrying the beautiful baby that was going to be her and daniel's future baby and that was what made the australian grand prix all the more special for everyone. however, recently, alessandra had been having some painful and strange cramp-like pains in her stomach and back however, she had just been disregarding them because she didn't want to put more fuel in the fire of her fears of having a potential miscarriage coming true. and besides, the pains hadn't been too extreme that it required looking into so, alessandra just didn't think to mention it to her midwife.

especially considering if this baby was to miscarry, it wouldn't be alessandra's first one either. it wasn't new news that the ricciardo's had been trying for ages, since their wedding in 2012, to be parents and everytime they did try, it would always end in heartbreak so, after that, alessandra promised herself and daniel that she'd never ever try to fall pregnant again. that was, however, until they stopped actively trying and one day that alessandra felt similar symptoms, she decided to take a pregnancy test just in case. and it came out positive which brought alessandra and daniel so much excitement that maybe all they had to do was just to not try so hard. all alessandra wanted for years was to manifest a positive, healthy, stress-free pregnancy for herself and her husband.

and, as of right now, it seemed as if everything in alessandra's pregnancy was going exceptionally for her now that she had finally reached the fifth month and didn't pursue the same symptoms that she did when she'd never get past the actual pregnancy test saying anything but negative. and, to be completely honest, that knowledge that alessandra had healthily made it to the five-month mark in this pregnancy after so many negative and infertility issues just this past week gave her so much comfort and solace. because it meant that she really was going to be able to give her husband everything he had ever dreamt to have and that was to have a child with the love of his life. 

whilst alessandra, the wags, alexandra, kelly, carola, francisca and daniel's sister michelle were on their way to the garages where they were going to be watching their drivers. but, it was on their walk to their separate garages that they couldn't help but bring up the conversation of baby ricciardo and whether or not they had come up with names just yet.

"---so, whilst you look divine being pregnant, alessandra, have you guys come up with names for baby ric yet?" carola, checo's wife asks as alessandra giggled whilst alex, francisca, kelly and sister-in-law michelle smiled at each other as alessandra rubbed the tiny five-month bump

"uhh, nah, not really. i don't think we're personally focused on names just yet. i mean, i know i'm not, i of course, can't say the same about daniel but, all i know is that scotty and his girl know the gender so, i think that's what we're waiting for," alessandra spoke before the girls smiled, their eyes all focusing and sparkling at the baby bump 

"yeah, i think soctty's actually told me a couple of names he had been thinking about but, for now i think we're still calling the little cherub baby ric," michelle, daniel's sister chuckled as the other girls nod their heads and smile brightly as kelly speaks up 

"well, aless, no matter what gender baby ric is going to be, you and daniel will for sure come up with a beautiful name anyway," kelly coos as she rubbed her warm hand across alessandra's stomach, making the pregnant girl giggle softly due to the tickly sensation it gave her 

however though, maybe the amount of laughter she and the others were doing was not the smartest. a large shot of sharp pain sent shockwaves through the mother's entire body as if it was a giant period cramp. along with the strange feeling of nausea, which alessandra had not once been experiencing, she quickly and quietly excused herself from the wags and sister-in-law to the bathroom just outside of the backstage wings which was the accessible toilet, the only one that alessandra could use. 

💮

"...welcome to the australian grand prix, everyone! for our pre-race interviews, we have one of the australian greats, mr daniel ricciardo with us! hello daniel!" martin brundle and david crofty were interviewing the racers before the race, and it was currently daniel's interview

"hello martin and crofty! what a lovely little intro there, mate! how are we?" daniel smiles his signature smile and laugh as the two interviewers can't help but smile as well

"we're very well, thank you daniel! and we're glad you're doing well too. before we get into our interview questions about the race today, it's an even more special grand prix today isn't it but for different reasons, correct?" crofty asks this time as daniel nods his head - this was the first grand prix in a while that both ricciardo's were attending together

"yes, that is very true, crofty. this is an even more special grand prix for me today. even though home races are special, it's even more special for me this time because my beautiful wife, alessandra, is with me today which has been a long time coming..." daniel trails off, not wanting to blurt out the news straight away

"...it has been a long time coming, we've all missed seeing the lovely mrs alessandra ricciardo in the paddock! and now she's back, is it true that maybe, just maybe, there's some news you'd like to share with us before we go any further?" martin asks as daniel chuckles at the interviewers - and thankfully, he had been given permission by his wife to announce it

"yes, there is some news and that news is that alessandra and i are having a baby!" daniel announces as crofty and martin smile sweetly at the driver as they then see alessandra and give her a wave

"wow, that is amazing news! congratulations daniel and to alessandra as well! we had heard you guys had been trying to get pregnant for a while, correct?" crofty asks, the two interviewers no longer caring about the actual interview - they just wanted to hear more about baby ric

"yeah, correct. me and alessandra had been trying for what felt like forever and now, we've finally gotten pregnant which is exciting and we cannot wait to meet the little ric!" daniel giggles, his smile covering his entire face as martin and crofty share similar smiles on their own faces

then, the interview actually begun properly and daniel started getting asked the proper questions about the race. how he felt about it, whether or not he had trust and confidence that he'd do well. all that sort of stuff that was normally asked during a pre-race interview. alessandra watching in pure joy at the joy that stayed on her husband's face the entire interview after announcing their pregnancy. who wouldn't feel like that. alessandra for sure felt like she was on cloud nine over the child she would be giving birth to. however, throughout daniel's interview and the happiness of the baby announcement, fear started to spread through the paddock as michelle and kelly ran through the paddock to find someone from daniel's team so they could tell them that daniel was urgently needed at the garages in the paddock. 

the crowd enjoyed every moment of the first half of daniel's interview with martin and crofty until a member of vcarb ran up onto the mini stage, making the crowd in the stands make noises of confusion. smiling as best as he could and waving to the fans, the vcarb staff member made a beeline straight to daniel. grabbing his arm and pulling him closer to his side, daniel lowered his microphone, and the member started whispering something into daniel's ear so it wasn't heard by anyone else. which, for some strange reason made the crowd scream even louder. martin and crofty, with confused faces watched on as the duration of their interivew with daniel was starting to finish. but they still tried to keep the energy up from earlier by mumbling some crazy things under their breaths to keep the audience occupied. their faces of confusion turning into looks of concern as within seconds, daniel's face ran cold and paled, his head shooting up towards the vcarb staff.

dropping his microphone to the floor, originally meant for the makeshift table, daniel wasted no time in dashing off the stage in a flash of light. barely tilting his head at martin and crofty before leaving without even saying a word. the vcarb staff giving an apologetic look to the men before giving them looks of "it will be explained later".

martin then spoke up, "we are so sorry guys. everything right now is fine, daniel ricciardo driver of vcarb just needs to take care of something right now that has been classified as an emergency by his team. as of right now, crofty and i assure everyone that everything is okay and all parties involved are okay. we are not entirely sure when daniel will return for his interview but that's not important right now. so, we will just move on to our next interview whilst daniel takes care of what's happening out in the paddock," martin announces as crofty nods his head and they begin the attempt of continuing their pre-race interviews with the drivers

at hearing this announcement, the crowd, whilst shrouded in worry, still erupt into cheers as martin and crofty continue as best as they can. not even able to imagine in their heads of what the emergency that was going on in the paddock that had daniel sprinting over. and it wasn't like it was the first time that f1 commentators had to commentate and conduct interviews whilst tragedy's occur

💮

bursting out of the paddock and through the garages and hospitality rooms, not even paying attention to who may have been trying to calmly walk past doing their job, daniel demanded answers as to what was going on, especially due to the fact it was in regards to his wife, alessandra. then, suddenly, the only thing that rang through his ears was the sound of alessandra's screams and cries of desperation. 

kelly and now daniel's sister michelle were on the ground, desperately trying to coax alessandra to open the bathroom door but, not one single thing they were saying made the poor girl open the door.

standing straight off the floor the second the two girls saw daniel, kelly spoke up, "she's been there for fifteen to twenty minutes, michelle's made the call to 000, any minute they should be arriving," kelly was updating daniel, well, trying to as it seemed as if daniel was too fixated on trying to figure it out himself 

"what even happened?" daniel's usual calm tone of voice came out shakier, moving his ear to the door to see if he could figure out what was wrong, the things he heard was alessandra repeatedly saying "no" as she wept and let out small rounds of screeches to herself 

out of breath, with the same vcarb staff and the ricciardos' mum right beside her, francisca mumbled, "she still hasn't opened the door?" as kelly and michelle shook their heads as the vcarb staff and grace turned their attention to daniel who was looking for answers, which kelly gave to him 

"in all honesty daniel, we have no idea what exactly happened," kelly shrugged sadly, wishing she did know so she could help her best friends, "we were all having a sweet, nice conversation about baby ric and names and just having a right old laugh when alessandra just suddenly got up and excused hersel to the bathroom without another word. then, after it had been about four minutes, i got worried since she never spends longer than a minute in there when just before i could even knock on the door, i just heard her scream. she refuses to open the door for any of us, that was until i told your sister who ran over to grab someone from vcarb to grab you and then grace, so, sorry for having to grab you from your interview but, maybe, for you, danny, she'll open it?" 

daniel shook his head at kelly's apology for making him leave the stage during an interview with brundle and crofty as he took in a deep breath before leaning his forhead against the metallic, cold bathroom door, "aless? babe, it's just me, could you please open the door?" 

no response. not even a noise of acknowledgement. 

breathing in again, daniel tried a second time, "alessandra, please, can you open the door for me?" he tried to keep his voice as calm as he could but, how could he? his wife was potentially injured whilst pregnant with their baby and he had no clue what to do to help her 

a few seconds went past of pure silence that really worried the group, and made them hold their breath until a shaky, wet breath was heard on the other side of the door, "i...i can't daniel, please, go...go away! there's...there's so...so mu...much!" the girl sobbed out in utter terror and distress, her vocal cords breaking 

daniel tried his hardest to not curse, both under his breath and loudly. deciding to try again, he knew he needed to get to his wife and see what was wrong so he could help her, "babe, aless, if you're near the door, you need to move back," once again, no response from alessandra suggesting that she had moved away from the door 

then, taking the slim chance that he was right and his wife did move out of the way, as his sister, mum, kelly, francisca and vcarb staff watched on in fear, daniel jutted his right foot towards the bathroom door, his boot kicking it open completely. flying open immediately, the door revealed a scene that was beyond anything that everyone had imagined they'd be seeing. well, in all honesty, they had no clue whatsoever as to what they expected to see behind that bathroom door but, it certainly didn't involve all of this blood.

blood was absolutely everywhere, not only was alessandra surrounded and somehow sitting in it, there was blood all over her arms and some in her hair, legs and face due to her most likely panicking and hugging herself to self-regulate and comfort herself into a calm enough state. with no care in the world for his paddock outfit, only stripping off the first layer that he was wearing, and throwing out everything in his pockets chucking them aimlessly at vcarb staff, who caught them, the only thing that clicked into daniel's brain was to comfort his wife. dropping to his knees, he messily slid over through the blood and to the toilet bowl where alessandra was resting, her body rocking with sobs as he pulled her in for a hug, blood being transferred from her to him in an instant. her hands rested at her side limply, her chin resting on daniel's shoulder as her sobs shook both of their bodies. daniel was mortified, i mean, he had no idea that someone so small and petite as his wife could have this much blood rush out of them. esepecially when she's currently pregnant. 

"i'm so sorry dan," alessandra whispered out ever so quietly to the point where daniel could barely hear it, not that she needed to apologise at all anyway 

grace, michelle, vcarb staff, francisca and kelly looked in, noticing everything that had happened and instantly, tears all welled in their eyes. ushering everyone out, grace gave one last look to her son and daughter-in-law before she also left the two of them so they could have a moment alone before the paramedics arrived. 

"and why are you apologising, alessandra?" daniel whispered as he rocked his wife back and forth, kissing the side of her cheek that wasn't covered in blood, his arms wrapped securely around his distraught wife 

"baby..." was all alessandra could at first whisper, which confused daniel

"...baby? what do you mean baby, aless, what's happened, babe?" daniel pushed for some more answers as alessandra's face screwed as she closed her eyes and shook her head, tears waterfalling down her face as she refused to talk about what had just happened

daniel hugged his wife tighter, not just to comfort her but also to let her know that he wouldn't get mad or lash out over whatever it was that she wasn't telling him. even if it did have something to do their child. he just wanted to be told what had happened so he could help his wife. 

finally, with reluctance and shame for herself, alessandra once again whispered it out, "...the baby, i...i lost the baby..." no loud sobs followed from her mouth after she revealed her stillbirth as daniel felt a switch get turned off whilst another one got turned on and his eyes filled with tears 

"...oh, oh aless! i am so sorry baby!" daniel whispered as he pulled his wife closer to him, his lips smooshed against her light blonde hair as his breath hitched as he felt his own tears leave his eyes as he closed them tightly 

the husband and wife sat on the bloodied up bathroom floor for what felt like hours whilst the pre-race fun continued in and around the paddock of albert park, melbourne before paramedics ran through the hallways of the vcarb garage before reaching the ricciardo's and the rest of the wags. in a strange way, relief flooded daniel's body hearing the pitter patters of the feet rushing through the hallways towards him and his wife. subconsciously, even though he didn't know too much about first aid, he knew from the way his wife was scrunching her body up in pain that this was good timing for the paramedics to have their arrival. it looked as if the foetus was still inside of alessandra and that she'd need surgery to have it medically removed so nothing negative or dangerous would happen to alessandra like an infection. the bloody scene that the paramedics had to witness as they walked in was not a friendly shock to the system at all and it was something they could never get used to, even as veteran paramedics. seeing this much blood as a paramedic, especially if their patient is a pregnant woman, was never good news, never. 

💮

daniel picked up alessandra and placed her on the gurney, unable to move as he just stood there as the paramedics wheeled away his wife to the ambulance. the hype and excitement from the pre-race festivities inside almost teased him with the lights flashing and joyful screams as his thoughts were then interrupted by the male paramedic, "excuse me, sir, would you like to come and ride with us? i presume you're alessandra's husband?" 

turning around to face the man, daniel gulped, "umm, yes, i am alessandra's husband, daniel ricciardo but uh, no, hold on, i need to at least get changed out of my clothes and clean myself up a bit, i'll meet you guys there as soon as i can though if that's okay," 

the fifty-ish year old paramedic nodded his head, telling daniel the name of the hospital they were sending his wife to, making sure grace was going with her so she wouldn't wonder later on why she was left all alone. the ambulance then took off with his wife and mum when daniel was finally alone and he felt himself walking back inside into the vcarb garage, his brain completely turned off, having no clue what to do or what to even think at this point in time.

all he could do was find himself walking back into the bloodied bathroom where he found his wife, the blood staring back at him like it was teasing him for not just his and alessandra's loss but also the rest of his family's, especially since it hadn't really been that long since they stopped actively trying for kids. and finally, the sobs he had been swallowing back for the sake of his wife just released from his body in violent convulsions, completely overwhelming him and his ability to stand. he then tried to shake, wipe and flick away the blood that was covering the majority of his body from his legs to his upper chest, not stopping until he felt himself being grabbed that he realised that for the last couple of minutes, max verstappen had been calling out his name, lando norris and carlos sainz not that far behind max. 

daniel's raw, bloodshot, puffy eyes met up with max, lando and carlos' worried ones, "...hey, daniel, hey!" 

not a second longer went by before daniel collapsed into max's slightly shorter frame and tries to quieten his painful sobs into the blonde's shirt. taken aback not just by shock but also physically, having to catch not just himself but also daniel, max doesn't hesitate to tighten his arms around the shaking, sobbing, bloodied-up daniel as he holds him tightly. encouraging the older driver to continue to cry over the emergency that still no one knew about.

"that's it daniel, yeah, ssh, that's it. let it all out buddy, it's going to be okay, you'll be fine..." 

💮

...daniel had just incoherently tried to explain to max, lando and carlos about the emergency that had happened backstage that caused him to miss the rest of his pre-race interview with brundle and crofty. with the other three struggling to understand what had happened, they looked at each other with confusion, worry and uncertainty rushing their bloodstreams. urging for daniel to take a few more breaths before trying again, was the moment in which kelly and francisca had walked in on the drivers trying to comfort their fellow driver. 

that was when, with some encouragement, kelly came forward and explained to the other three boys what had happened, "max, what daniel's trying to say is, alessandra was hanging out with us and daniel's sister, we were laughing and blabbering on about what the baby would be called when out of nowhere, alessandra just quietly excused herself, rushing away into the bathroom. four minutes later, after i became worried since aless is never in there for longer than a minute, i went to check on her when before i could even reach the door handle, i just heard her scream and refuse to open the door. that was when we got michelle and francisca to get someone from vcarb to grab daniel from his interview and grace from her seat in the vip area and then, that was when we came to the realisation that alessandra had gone into stillbirth, the...the baby's gone..." kelly's voice faltered at the end as daniel let out a sob as max held him tighter, lando and carlos both closing their eyes as tears filled their eyes 

covering his mouth with his hand, lando softly spoke up, "...oh, aless...where is she and grace? have they gone to the hospital?" lando's voice also faltered as kelly nodded her head, confirming something that she knew daniel couldn't do himself 

"yeah, lando, hun, the paramedics found out that the baby was still inside alessandra so, she's been sent into surgery to give birth to the baby. because if the baby isn't removed, the baby wouldn't be the only one we could potentially lose," kelly sniffled, wiping her nose with her sleeve as max once again squeezed daniel tightly as lando gestured to carlos to say that they should go over and help max comfort daniel 

and, without another word, lando and carlos squeezed themselves into daniel and max's hug as they all, max included, started to cry together over the loss of what would have been another f1 grid baby. the wags, kelly and francisca, and daniel's sister michelle, also overcome with emotion, then also joined in on the hug as they all cried together and grieved together before they realised that they had left daniel's mum all alone with alessandra. 

but, before they left, max whispered one last thing before they broke the group hug, "...it's gonna be okay, we'll be fine..." 

💮

now that it was well known within the paddock of melbourne's albert park that alessandra had just been wheeled out by paramedics to the hospital. the rest of the pre-race festivities that involved daniel and vcarb specifically was cancelled which meant that ultimately, the race would be delayed. the drivers couldn't even think about driving at this moment when they knew their fellow racer and teammate needed them. all of them going to the hospital alongside their wife/girlfriend. so, within minutes, everyone, except for one, had all changed from their paddock outfits and rushed out of the race circut to one of the vans of vcarb's to get to the hospital that daniel had been told that alessandra had been transported to. 

however, this whole time, daniel's weeping didn't stop. at this point, he was wailing like a dying animal, he was so devastated. what was more devastating was this was the first time his fellow racers had seen daniel really break down and cry. and that was what broke their hearts the most because they all knew that all daniel ever wanted to be in this life was a dad and just as he was four or so months away from becoming one, the baby passes away. and before max got into the car with daniel and lando, max realised that daniel still hadn't gotten changed and was still holding his clean clothes. 

so, to calm their distraught teammate and get him out of his bloodied clothes, lando this time speaks up, "hey, dan, come on, look at me, alright?" pushing him away, daniel still does what he's told and makes eye contact with lando

"whilst this sounds like utter bullshit and you have full permission to smack me for saying this, everything will eventually be okay. you, alessandra and your whole family will recover from this and all of us getting in this car and waiting at that hospital will help you guys out. and eventually, alessandra will give birth to the most precious little baby ever but, right now, you need to get changed and back into this car so we can get to that goddamn hosptial because out of everyone here right now, alessandra needs you, your mum & sister needs you and you need your mum, sister and your wife!" wiping his tears away, daniel nodded his head, agreeing with his best friend and teammate

but not before looking down and realising, lando was right, daniel did forget to get changed out of his now dried-up bloodied paddock outfit, he spoke up, "oh shit, you're right, i...i'll go and get changed, i'll be back..." daniel hushed out as he wiped his tears away and rushed back into the paddock so he could get changed 

whilst that type of moment, one of his teammates forgetting to get changed would normally be hilarious, this time it pierced through lando's heart, it smacked carlos across the face and it just broke max's heart to see how distressed and inconsolable daniel had been that he had simply forgotten to get out of his bloodied up paddock outfit this entire time whilst everyone else had done so before walking to the vcarb van. daniel then took those sweet few seconds as he stripped himself of his bloodied paddock outfit and into a clean, comfy set of sweat pants and a white t-shirt along with a pair of slippers. double-checking he had everything he needed and that he hadn't forgotten anything else this time, he made his way back out of the arena and to the van where everyone was waiting inside. lando waiting outside for him as they then made their way to the hospital to alessandra and grace. 

💮

alessandra couldn't believe that she could get so excited about finally getting pregnant after struggling so much with infertility to only, in the span of what was only a few months, have her body fail her. all she wanted to do was to give her husband and herself a goddamn family and she was so close to doing so as well. at this point, the grief of all the other negative results and heartbreaking infertility appointments was practically gone because she knew it wasn't her fault and she had just accepted that it was now normal for her to lose a baby. however, knowing that this specific baby, she had allowed herself and daniel to get so excited about because it was the one and only time that they hadn't actively tried to get pregnant just made her grief the worst it had ever been. she felt like she had once again failed daniel since she couldn't accomplish the one goddamn thing that women were practically put on this earth to do. all her husband ever wanted was a goddamn child and she couldn't even give him that. 

waking up from her surgery, the girl was drowsy and for a moment forgot where she was when she heard the familiar voice of her mother-in-law, grace, "...hey darling, you're awake, i'll get the nurse-" 

"-grace, where...where's dan? i...i need to apologise to him, and...and to you! i need to apologise to you! i am so sorry grace! i didn't mean to lose the baby i-" 

"-hey, hey, no, aless! we won't be doing this, not today! you have got absolutely nothing to apologise for! no one is blaming you for the loss of you and daniel's baby! i don't blame you, daniel doesn't blame you, no one blames you alessandra! it is not your fault at all! you had no control nor any idea that this was to happen! don't you dare blame yourself for something that is out of your control!" grace stressed as alessandra timidly nodded her head, still feeling awful but less heavy now that she truly felt reassured that it wasn't her fault - that is until she saw her husband 

"do you know when dan will get here?" alessandra then timidly asked her mother-in-law as grace sighed, she could tell that alessandra was trying to stop her from getting the nurse 

"no, i don't darling but, i really need to tell a nurse that you're awake so, can i please inform one of the nurses that you're awake?" grace smiled softly as alessandra timidly nodded her head as that sent a shiver of relief down grace's spine

"thank you, aless, and dan shouldn't be too far away and neither should the rest of the lads drivers and wags since they will have also been made aware. now, i'll be back in a couple of seconds, a minute tops, behave!" grace winked at the end as alessandra breathed out a laugh with a small head nod as she rested her head against the wall of the hospital behind her whilst she waited

💮

by the time daniel and everyone else had arrived at the hospital and was allowed access to his wife's hospital room, she had already had the surgical procedure she needed to remove the deceased foetus. even though she knew that her husband had walked into the hospital room, she couldn't even bear to look up and make eye contact with him. especially with the knowledge that the stillborn had also been wheeled into the room for the husband and wife to meet the baby, she couldn't even bring it within herself to even breathe the same air as him even though she knew she'd eventually have to otherwise she'd alert the doctors and nurses. it ripped daniel apart knowing that not only did alessandra have to go through the surgery alone since grace isn't considered "immediate family" but that she was so ashamed of herself that she couldn't even look him nor the baby in the eye. 

"...please aless, baby, say something, just anything." daniel whispered out in a teary beg to his wife as she slowly but nervously lifted her head up, finally looking her husband in the eyes as she finally noticed just how hard this had also been for her husband and therefore everyone else 

"i...i...i tried so hard for anything but this to happen..." alessandra whimpered out in a whisper as daniel choked, not able to say a single thing as he swiftly moved over to the bed, hugging his wife as they cried together 

then, they moved from the hug and wheeled the cot over to them so they could meet their baby for the first time...

...the baby that was going to be their little baby girl if she hadn't been born still...

max, lando and carlos all cried as they watched their teammate and wife grieve over the loss of what would have been the new f1 grid baby. 

"...we were going to have a baby girl danny..." 

"...our precious little princess, aless..." 

fin

very depressing i know but hey, it's what i do best when i don't have any original ideas, i just go back to the depressing old ideas and just change it to whoever it's been adapted to. 

©⠀amberjazmyn's original work. do not translate or steal any of my fics. 2024

[gretavanmoon]

an omnipresent force • ch 5

Chapter 5 - DARK ABDUCTION

Jake x female reader

Words: 12K

A/N: Semi-AU// Set six years in the future, the world has decided to cast humankind aside, starting with the poisonous entities that are destroying her the most.

*So sorry it took me a damned month to write this LOL I love you all

Warnings: Dystopian Horror, Cursing, Suspense, Feelings of Fear and Uncertainty, An Apocalyptic World, Violence (& mention of firearms), Mentions of Smoking, Kidnapping, Blood, Death & Dying, Lying, Attacks, Deceit, Panic, Mental Anguish. Smut: Kissing, Heavy Pining, Heavy Touching, Mentions of Sex

JAKE

“Wait, you two kissed?” Sam places his hand harshly on my shoulder as his tired eyes delve deeply into mine. I see the tiniest hint of a smirk poking at his mouth, and I immediately regret my decision to let the admission of what happened last night slip. I’m struck silent for a second as I bite my own tongue for telling my brother what happened on the wall by the koi pond, but he perseveres. “Answer me, asshole! Tell me what happened!” His hand shakes at my shoulder as I glance around to be sure we’re away from the rest of the group, but I feel Danny’s presence suddenly hovering at my back.

“Wait, what happened?” he says with a monotone grunt, sitting down beside Sam and I with a plate full of canned something. “Who kissed somebody?”

Jesus Christ.

We’d all awoken from the restlessness of sorry excuses for sleep nearly an hour ago, buried up under old, musty quilts and blankets from the home Odin had us hiding out in. I fell asleep with Y/N’s hand in mine as we laid head to head on the dusty cushions, trying our best to calm our minds enough to sleep. We knew we needed it, hell, even if we didn’t fall into unconsciousness, just resting our bodies enough to relax was helpful enough. My mind had raced all night long with half-asleep dreams of Josh… of my parents and my family, all my dark daily thoughts even darker then under the cover of nighttime and complete silence. 

But her warm hand in mine gave me some type of solace, though she is still yet unfamiliar and more or less a stranger to me, that kiss on the wall felt like more than just two humans begging for physical touch after so many months without it. Deep down I knew that my body was acting more powerfully than my mind, taking whatever it could get just to feel something again, but after sitting with the memory of the feeling of her lips on mine all night long, I started to think it felt like something different.

Luckily Y/N had taken off to the woods to do her business, giving me a second of reprieve to sort my thoughts out while Odin and the brothers made some type of breakfast over the fire in the backyard. Sparrow was still deep in sleep, resting peacefully in the bedroom across the hall from us. 

“Jake kissed Y/N!” Sam belts to Danny in a loud whisper, earning him a swift slap of the back of my hand across his stomach. “Ow, fuck! What, you didn’t want him to know or something?”

“No, I don’t care that he knows, it’s just… not a big deal–”

“Not a big deal? Jake, this is like the first episode of a soap opera, man!” Danny exclaims with a toothy smile. “Need some romantic drama in my life, tell us what happened,” Danny orders as the two of them sit beside me with expressions of extreme interest. For a split second, it feels like we’re 16 again, telling each other stories about girls and hookups and how we managed to sneak out after midnight without getting caught.

“No drama to it, Daniel,” I begin to reluctantly explain, running my hand over my mustache. “Just… kinda happened, I dunno.” I stare back at the both of them, all three of us haggard, dirty, unshaven and feral… looking outwardly worse for wear than we ever have in our lives. I make a mental note to re-think what Y/N even sees in me, right now.  

Their eyes are trained on me, their jaws hanging slack as they wait with bated breath for the dirty details. It feels private, but also…eh, they’re going to learn about it eventually, I guess. I’ll keep a little bit to myself, but feeding into them will make for some unexpected entertainment. 

“Just happened…” Sam repeats. “I mean was it, good?” he asks, swallowing down his excitement. You’d never guess that we’re thirty-something year old men having this discussion right now. 

I feel my chest bloom with the memory of it, remembering everything about how she felt pressed against me, how she tasted, how she sounded when I let my hands wander…

“Uh, yeah. Yeah, it was… really good,” I can feel my cheeks blushing. “We just…” I throw my hands into the air and try to down play it all, but they know me too well. The bite of my lips between my teeth is doing all it can to keep me from relinquishing every detail to them, simply so I can relive it, myself.

“Fuckin’ come on, Jake. I didn’t realize you guys were that close…” Danny tries to urge me.

“We’re not, I mean, we were locked up in the same pod, she was a damned fan, for fuck’s sake,” I breathe, checking our surroundings again as I whisper. “She saved me, back at the sink hole…” I recount to them. “Got me out of there. They’d just hit me over the head when I was trying to save her Paps, I was passing out. I wouldn’t have made it out if she didn’t–”

I watch them adjust themselves as they listen, huffing through deep breaths of imagining what my negative memory might be going through. 

“I mean of course I’m… ya know. It’s been some time since I’ve—,” I try and explain without saying, earning understanding nods from them. “But things got a little…handsy, I guess.”

“Oooo!” Sam squeals, rubbing his hands together.  “You lucky motherfucker! What else happened? Did you do it?”

“God, no, Sam, we didn’t do it, you fuckin’ idiot,” I bite back as Danny laughs loudly. 

“What?” he howls. “I’m trying to live vicariously here!”

“Nah man, she’s like… really nice. It was really uhm, not just physical, I guess. We talked and stuff. She feels like…” I raise my hands and squeeze the air as I realize I’m having a hard time explaining to them exactly what I feel. Of course my body is feigning for more human touch, any type of connection I can get my hands on. I’m ashamed of the thoughts that plagued me on the couch last night, but I remind myself that it’s normal. And, after hearing what she had to say about a little touchin’ and squeezin’...

“She feels good. I don’t know how else to explain it. Just, really good. All the way around.”

“So there’s mutual attraction?” Sam asks, nearly begging for more detail.

I fight back another smirk. “Oh yeah. M’sure of that.”

“I saw her looking at you last night,” Danny adds quietly as he pulls food into his mouth. “She got those googly eyes.”

“Of course she did, Daniel, do you not remember being on stage? It hasn’t been that fucking long ago…” Sam bickers.

“No,” Danny laughs, “not that kind of eyes. She was looking at you. Like, really looking. With concern and empathy…while we were listening to Sparrow talk.”

All I can do is nod, remembering that I’ve caught her looking at me like that, too. A few times now. And each time it sends a surge of some type of emotion that I don’t have time to think about right now straight through my body like an electric shock. It’s funny, I’ve had my fair share of what you’d call crushes in my lifetime, some evolving into serious, years-long relationships and some fizzling out before I even had a chance to think twice about them. 

But never have I felt like I didn’t want to eat the food in front of me when I’m nearly starving, simply for the fact that the emanating peace I’ve felt in my chest and stomach for the past few days takes up enough space that I don’t need sustenance. Because she fills me. She’s making my heart race for a reason that I don’t yet understand, and I’m teetering on the edge of feeling guilty about it, as my heart should be racing with worry and concern for my family, instead. 

“Well,” Sam breaks the silence, “I hope that things stay moving forward for you, brother. Nothing like a little romance during the fucking apocalypse.”

Just then I hear her giggle from the back side of the house, causing my head to dart that way as I long to hear it again. I toss the pebbles that I had mindlessly picked up back into the murky koi pond and stand with Sam and Daniel, and we begin to make our way back to the fire to see what the day will hold. 

I catch her eyes as soon as I round the corner of the house, bright and rested as I assume she got better sleep than I did. Her face immediately turns the prettiest shade of pink before she shyly breaks her gaze, tossing a few pieces of hair behind her ear. That familiar knot pulls at my stomach, making me forget how to breathe for a second as I watch the too-bright sun bounce off her features. The day is already beginning to feel strange as the wind begins to shift from the warmth of the night into the freezing cold of the day. 

“Where is Odin?” Danny asks the brothers as they work to prepare a makeshift meal. 

“Went to sit with Sparrow until she wakes up,” Robbie answers as he stirs whatever is in the pot that hangs above the fire. “Want some?” He holds the wooden spoon out to me as I realize it’s some kind of oatmeal, and I immediately feel my stomach churn with hunger. Maybe I do need real sustenance, after all. I nod, grabbing two bowls from the stack and letting Robbie fill them for Y/N and I. 

I pass the bowl off to her as we both take our seats on a rock by the fire. “Awfully kind of you to think of me, Jacob,” she says sweetly, taking the hot bowl from my hand. 

You’re the only thing that’s been on my mind since last night, if we’re being honest…

“Sharing is caring,” I blurt, making her giggle again. 

“Do we have a plan? Are we making moves soon?” Danny asks, turning the bleak cheeriness of the morning straight into business. We always leave it to him to keep things on track. And honestly, if it weren’t for him naturally doing that at every single turn, it’s hard to tell where we would be today.

“As soon as Sparrow wakes up, and we see that she’s ready to share again, we will define a more detailed plan,” Josiah explains. “For now, Odin wants you all fed and for us to gather necessary supplies from the house. I found some backpacks and camping gear in the upstairs closet, we can fill them with whatever we need.” 

I tilt the bowl up and let the soupy oatmeal fall into my mouth, and as it burns my lips and tongue I feel nothing but gratitude for it. My mouth waters and my stomach churns again as it thanks me, my mind suddenly feeling a bit of clarity as the food hits my stomach. 

“We also need to hydrate. All of us,” Robbie adds. “I think these people were preppers before we even knew the world was ending… I found a ton of canteens and potable water in the basement this morning. Firestarters, water filters, hot hands, oil lamps… take whatever you want but make sure it doesn’t weigh you down. There’s also still a ton of clothing in the closets. Grab whatever you can.”

“We also need to remember that we’re being hunted,” Josiah says grimly from behind him. His eyes seem dark in the sunlight, a stark contrast to his brother’s cheery disposition. “Hunted by the ones who Robbie and I ‘work’ for.”

“Worked,” Robbie corrects him, glaring behind him to meet eyes with his brother. My gut suddenly falls as a worrisome thought flows through my head, one that hopes to the heavens above that these men aren’t actually luring us somewhere. I know Y/N, Sam, and Danny have the same thought, but it’s quickly extinguished as Josiah explains his demeanor. 

“Right, worked. Sorry. I’m just…” Josiah works his hands over his face and licks his lips, letting out a large breath of air as he shakes his nerves away. It hadn’t dawned on me that these two men have put everything out on the line for this, for us. To help save us, keep us protected. They are just humans like we are, just a couple of guys who agreed to fight the good fight. Of course they’re feeling just as overwhelmed. 

“We haven’t forgotten that, Josiah. And I don’t think you know how much we appreciate you both for coming out here and helping defend our asses,” Sam says through full mouths of his oatmeal. The other three of us agree and nod.

“We’re not gonna let these motherfuckers win,” Robbie growls. “They mistreated us for far too long. Lied to us, and we played their games, but we caught them up. Now we know how they operate. We’ll be damned if we let them take anything more from us.”

“Your family, are we searching for them, too?” Y/N asks from beside me. 

Robbie and Josiah share a sullen glance before their eyes land back on her. “No, we lost them all to the rash. Dad was able to stay with us for a while, but. It got him in the end,” Robbie says, tossing a few pieces of broken sticks into the flames. 

“Neither one of us have even shown any symptoms. Then we got picked up by these scary fuckers, they agreed to give us shelter and a lavish life in safety from what has happened to the world. Not sure why we agreed, we felt desperate at the time, I guess,” Josiah adds. “They said they would make it worth our while to come and work for them, and before we knew it we were in too deep. But we did learn nearly everything there was to know about how their world intersects with ours, and then we learned about you guys being found. Made all the musical ties ourselves, realized all the lyrics, knew that you’d be in grave danger, and we were right.”

“I still can’t believe you two were fans, too,” Danny breathes. “Feels strange.”

“Yeah man, big time. Used to play you guys all the time while we were overseas, bugged the shit out of everyone until they all started singing along. Took some time, but we converted them,” Josiah went on. 

“Wait, overseas?” I implore. 

Robbie clears his throat. “Yeah, we were both in the military. I was Air Force, Joe was Marines. We were both stationed separately when Starcatcher came out, but I remember we got on some shitty Zoom call and talked about it for like an hour. We were hyped.”

“Oh yeah!” Josiah yelps. “That was killer, I remember that. Fuck I played that shit over and over, got the whole squad turned on to you guys. Playin’ fuckin Highway Tune on jukeboxes in random bars in Germany… ah, what wild times.”

I feel a genuine smile warm through me as I realize that our music really did tie bonds between people, and they found comfort in it even while they were living in what most likely was their own versions of hell. Even now, months after we realized that our dreams had come to a quick and forced ending, it feels good to hear the stories of days past, when it truly did mean something to someone. At least we all will always have that. “So that’s why they hired you guys… you had experience in this shit…”

They both nod. “Yeah, somewhat. We ended up coming back home around the same time, I got an MP job, and Joe stayed with Special Forces for a while. Got out and got some civilian jobs or whatever, then the world ended,” Robbie says with a twist of his neck. 

I gulp down the strange sadness that has washed over me, and I feel Y/N’s side press a little harder onto mine. 

“Bet that was tough…” I mutter. 

“Yeah, ya know. We didn’t hate our lives, but it wasn’t sunshine and rainbows. The thrill of the job is what we got addicted to, but it felt like a prison most days,” Josiah goes on. “Now we deserted our posts as work hounds for those motherfuckers, guess we’re a couple of renegades, now.”

Danny’s eyes shoot open as he glances to them, then to me, realizing yet another connection that hadn’t even dawned on any of us, yet. Son of a bitch, Josh…how in the fuck did you do this? 

I shake my head in disbelief, feeling Y/N exhale hard as she makes the connection, too. It’s quiet for a minute or so as a heaviness falls over us.  

“Till Valhalla?” I finally ask, unsure of how else to propose it. 

Josiah purses his lips, offering me a stern look. “Or is it Alas, Babylon?”

I huff through my nose, breathing a quiet “fuck” as I place my bowl down onto the rocky ground, running my hands over my face. They’ve realized it, too. As the minutes tick, things become more and more unreal. Or more real, depending on how you look at it. I’m awestruck at how our words are still coming to life at every turn, realizing now that these two brothers are our Barbarians. 

“Well, thank you, guys… for all of it. Really,” Sam says with a little conviction as we all add in our words of agreement.

“Ah, no need for that. But it’s appreciated,” Josiah says as he stands up and elbows his brother. “We’re just out here still doing what we do best, huh?”

Just as the conversation starts to lighten a little, we hear the back sliding glass door open as Odin gently bounds through, giving us looks of intrigue as his one orange eye glistens in the sun. Behind him in hand, is Sparrow. 

“Good morning, everyone. I trust you all got some rest,” his voice is low and graveled as he uses caution to lead a tired Sparrow outside into the cool wind. 

“Got enough, I suppose,” I say, standing to greet them. “How are you, Sparrow?”

Her aura seems to shift as she moves, the air around her almost glittering in a dusty haze. “Well, Jacob, thank you.” It’s like the breeze warms as she speaks, blowing across us with a new wave of positivity and calmness. She emotes some kind of invisible tranquility, almost immediately filling me with a new gumption to keep going, keep fighting. I can hardly fathom the emotion, but I feel a warm buzz of stamina begin pulsing through my veins. She makes me feel like I’m…alive. 

Odin leads her over to take a seat on a bench as she hobbles across the gravel with her hand clutched protectively over her sword. 

“Is she…limping?” I hear Y/N whisper quietly in my ear, again furthering that the visions of her in Josh’s dreams were spot on. 

I nod slowly as she begins to relax onto the seat, stretching her back and raising her arms high above her head. “My friends, my sincerest apologies for bestowing that news upon you with such haste last night, but I thought it prevalent to our situation, and urgency became paramount. And then, my slumber afterward is always overpowering, and again I am sorry. I simply can never fight through it…” 

I feel Y/N rise from her seat beside me as she wraps a blanket around herself, making her way over to sit beside Sparrow. “It’s alright, you don’t need to be sorry. I think we are all grateful that you’re here, and willing to help us, right guys?”

“Right, absolutely,” we all viciously agree. At this point, I’m chomping at the bit for her to continue, to feed us more information that I know she is holding inside her. But I’ve learned that patience is key. 

We all gather in around her like children being read a Christmas story, anxiously waiting to hear what new news she has to offer. I’m nervous, and I’m a little scared to know, but I also can’t bring myself to think about anything else at the moment. The newfound urge to keep going is amplified the closer I get to Sparrow, but I also could absolutely collapse with worry for my brother. 

“Alright, I’ve got good news, and I’ve got bad news…”

Y/N

I feel the overwhelming urge to reach out and grab Sparrow’s hand, but I resist, not knowing whether or not that will comfort her at all. I’m not sure where my want to comfort her has come from, but I can’t seem to step away from it. 

The guys and I sit and wait for her news, and I’m positive none of us have taken a breath since the last word left her lips. My nerves are swirling but I suppress them, knowing that Jake, Sam, and Danny are a thousand times more anxious than I am. Paps would want me to stay strong.

“The good news is that your brother is alive. And he is safe, in some sense of the word,” she sings, her accent flowing through a hundred millenia, but all of us are somehow able to understand it. “My friends, as I’m sure you all have probably assumed by now, Joshua has been found and captured by those who rule the Tower. His mind is still his own, but you must understand, once one crosses into the other world and begins inserting oneself with the beliefs of those who inhabit there, it takes a great deal of power to begin to reverse it. The words that flowed from me last night were indeed words spoken by your brother, himself, to the people there whom he will one day rule over.”

“Wait, rule over? What does that mean?” I interrupt, my body tensing. 

“Jacob, your brother is a Seer. Even in his adolescent dreams and nightmares, he was witnessing and experiencing a plethora of occurrences that were happening in real time, in the past and in the future, in our world. You know this, now. You wrote about it, about it all. Once our people learned that Joshua possessed this gift through learning of your music, they made it their mission to try and take him for their own. To rule over them as the true one that they could believe in, the one who stands, and watches over,” Sparrow says. My chest caves and my breath hitches as it all begins to come to life again. All of our lyrics, all of our stories…

She goes on, “Of course they wanted him, they just had no idea that a mere human would be the one to possess the power to see time. Time and events being prophesied by a human man in an enemy world is… unfathomable, for them. The end of your world just happened to be the perfect time for them to act upon their plans, as our worlds cannot live while the other is struggling to stay alive. Two sides of the same coin, spinning rapidly on its axis until it begins to slow and falter. But this time, oh, this time, things are different.”

“So they wanted Josh… to be their Seer, to be the one who can warn them of what’s to come, what will work in their favor, and what will not…” Sam drones, choking back tears. 

“Correct, Samuel. Odin, have you told them of what they are doing to their elderly? With their memories?” Sparrow asks. 

Odin shakes his head. “Yes, I have.”

“Your immune elders are being used for their experiments. They are trying to wipe their memories, wipe anything and everything they have ever known to soon bring them over into their own world, and convert them to follow the Seer. A whole new population that will know nothing but following him.”

“Blind faith…” Danny murmurs from beside me, his elbow pressing into my back. “It’s their fate.”

“That’s right Daniel,” Sparrow agrees, emanating another glow of positivity around us. “Blind in the sense that they will have no recollection of how they got there, or why they feel compelled to follow this omniscient. It’s the perfect storm.”

“You said that the hooded guards are all omniscient, why can’t they use one of them? Why does it have to be Josh?” I press, remembering what Odin had said. 

“I said they are all nearly omniscient. Your brother, in their eyes, is completely so,” Odin reiterates. 

I huff out an air of disappointment for news that I partially already knew, but hearing it all said out loud has crushed me. Why? Why?

“Josh didn’t know what we were writing about was real, though! They can’t take him and claim his mind like that, they can’t take away his free will!” I yell, feeling my heartrate taking off. 

“They can, Jacob, and they have already begun the process. You heard his words last night, and I know you know they were not his own. They’ve begun to manipulate his thoughts into believing that all he claims is truth, which partially, it is. They are deeming him as a new leader, a sovereign entity of whom will lead the people to their destiny.”

“Destiny? What destiny?” Danny asks.

“If their trials are successful, and they are able to completely wipe the memories of every immune human left on earth, they will take them all as their own and the Earth will have no choice but to relinquish all its power unto them,” Sparrow barks, and I can tell that the words sting a bit as they leave her mouth. 

“But I thought our worlds can’t exist without one another,” Y/N blurts, her hand now gripping hard onto mine. 

“They can’t, my love, without inhabitants who are strong and thriving.” Sparrow stands and approaches us, her warmth bellowing toward us as she raises her hand to brush across all of our faces. “That’s why they are hunting you. You are worth everything to them. If they can erase the memories of your elders, then they will be sure they can erase the memories of the stronger, younger immunes. Wipe your Mother Earth of her inhabitants, and watch as she completely crumbles. Once they convert you all, then their world will have more than enough power to exist on it’s own, without needing the support of Earth to survive.”

She comes in closer, her aura dripping with what feels like forced happiness. “You see, they want to fully extinguish the human race from the face of the Earth. They want you as their own. Their plan is to take you all, and Joshua is their sole key to the abductions.”

Abductions. 

Suddenly, I can’t breathe. 

I can’t blink, I can’t swallow… I can’t even feel the rocks that I know are poking through the thinning soles of my boots. 

Jake’s hand slips from my own as I feel him slowly turn to me, and to Sam and Danny, all of their faces void of any real emotion at all, other than complete terror. 

“This isn’t fair…” I whisper, and I’m not sure any sound came from me, at all. It feels like my chest is made of stone, the small breaths I’m pulling in unable to expand my lungs. Josh…

“What do we do?” Jake asks us, his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down as his pupils shrink to pinpoints. His face has dropped to a stark white, and I can feel the terrified energy radiating from him. His eyes dart from his brothers to me, looking to all of us for answers that we simply don’t have. “What do we do?” Tears begin welling in his eyes and the rims of them turn a bright red. I can see his hands visibly shaking.

“We search. Today. We leave, now,” Odin harks, standing from Sparrow’s side as he throws his bow and arrow over his shoulder. “Into the house, pack your bags, take only all that is necessary and nothing more. Pack water, warm clothing. Josiah, Robbie, the same for you. Make sure you lock all of the doors and windows, we will return to this place eventually.”

“Where are we going? What’s the plan?” Danny asks as everyone begins to shuffle. 

“First we find your families. Get them to safety. Then we find your brother and cross him back over. That will be the hard part,” he says, punching through all of us to go and begin packing his horse. Danny, Sam, and the others jump into action and begin rushing into the house to pack their things.

I notice that Jake is frozen where he stands, the news that Sparrow has just shared still coursing through him. I fear he is in shock, feeling the effects of learning the truth about his twin fully and completely. Truly, I’m not sure what to even say to him right now, but then I look to Sparrow and she gives me a tight grin, and I immediately feel another wave of comfort and courage wash over us. 

“Jake, I know you’re scared right now, and I know this is a lot to process, but. We’re going to find him, he’s going to be okay,” I reason, taking his cheeks into my hands to try to get him to look at me. 

“How do you know that, Y/N? What if we can’t get to him, and he’s already too far gone? What if he– what if he never comes back?” I never thought I would see him cry, I never thought I would have to be the one comforting him when he did… But here I find myself…

“You wanna know how I know that, Jake? Blind faith.”

“What–what do you mean? That’s…”

My hands release his cheeks and fall to catch his still trembling hands, cold and clammy in the blowing air. “How do we ever know anything is going to work for certain, Jake? We don’t, we just have to persevere. Josh wouldn’t stop looking for you, and he’d never give up on you. None of you would give up on each other. Right? All these years, all you’ve done is trusted each other, because it’s all that you had. You seized every opportunity, together. And look where it got you. You can’t stop now. You can’t think thoughts like that now, Jake. We don’t have time for them. Every single one of you is stronger than you know, and I’ll be damned if I sit here and watch you crumble because of a little fear. You’ve overcome so much, Jake, in your lives and in your careers, because of your blind faith.”

“Kill fear,” he whispers. 

I watch as his pupils grow a bit, and his muscles relax. I wipe the tears that are beginning to freeze onto his face, catching in his lengthening beard and mustache. “Yeah, fuck fear,” I smile.

He nods, turning his head to press a sweet kiss onto my palm. “Okay, yeah. You’re right. We’re gonna find him, he’s gonna be alright, the son of a bitch.” I smile as he picks himself up, gripping my hands that are still cupping his cheeks and placing more kisses onto my palms and fingers. “Thank you…”

I push myself onto him, wrapping my arms around his neck as he finally takes his first full breath in a few minutes. “Don’t thank me, Jake. You don’t know how many times you and your brothers have comforted me when I thought there was nothing else left for me in this world. You and your music were always there.” 

I hear him laugh, his chest shaking a little against mine as I realized the words I’d just said. “I didn’t mean to say that, it just came out,” I laugh along with him as he pulls away a little, holding my elbows in his hands. 

“Hell, maybe he dreamed about you and me too, then,” he mutters, sending my heart straight into glittering explosions. What did I do to deserve spending this time with him? The person that pulled me from the depths so many times… and now we’ve found ourselves here…

“Maybe he did…” I reply shyly, feeling his thumbs grazing across my arms. 

“Hey, love birds! Come on, we’ve got bags to pack!” We hear Sam yelling from the upstairs balcony of the house, and if it weren’t for the immediate action we jumped into, I would have had time to process the fact that Sam just used the word love.

JAKE

Only all that is necessary…

You always think about what you would grab and take with you if your house was burning down, but when it actually came down to it, you always knew you’d be able to gather resources again. Meals from a neighbor, supplies from the store, fuel from a gas station… 

But when it comes down, truly, to only what is necessary… I think I’ve drawn a blank. 

The empty backpack sits open in my hands as I kneel in the closet of the stranger’s house, my eyes scanning over the clothing that once kept this person warm. Sweaters that his wife had gifted him, socks with holes he had worn in, boots still covered in mud and debris from the hike he didn’t know was going to be his last... 

I swallow hard as my eyes scan even further into the bottom of the closet, shelves full of old memorabilia, high-school basketball trophies, photo albums, old vinyl records… these were part of someone’s life. And I am taking it, because I need to survive. 

“I can’t do this…” I mutter, shaking my head of the sudden overwhelming feeling of impeding into someone’s personal space, though their earthly body is long gone from this home. 

“You have to,” I hear from the doorway, looking up to see Robbie looking back at me. “Promise you, this guy wouldn’t care.”

I huff through my nose. “How would you know, did you know him?”

“No, but I feel like if he knew that it’s the actual end of the earth, the seasons are blending, your family was kidnapped by inhabitants of another world, and you’re running around with mythical creatures while you’re being hunted and used for your mind, I’m pretty positive he wouldn’t care if you stole a pair of socks or two,” Robbie says sarcastically as he gnaws on a long piece of red candy. “Twizzler?”

I laugh again, opening the drawer that houses the underwear and socks. “Yeah, actually, thanks. They aren’t stale?”

“Fuck yeah, they are. But it don’t bother me. Just keeps my hands and mouth busy, ya know?”

I stuff two pairs of woolen socks into a zippered part of the bag before removing my boots and slipping a fresh pair on. “You used to smoke, didn’t you?” I ask. 

“How’d you know?”

“Just a guess,” I reply, reaching far back into the closet to grab a pair of the man’s old hiking boots, happy with finding we were almost the exact same size. “I would have gotten you a pack or five if I’d have known… Right before you found us, we were in an old convenience store chock full of them. That’s where Y/N and I found Sam and Danny.”

Robbie grunts a laugh as he pulls another rogue Twizzler from his pocket, handing it off to me. “Sounds like we might have to make a pitstop.” 

It does sound intriguing… A cigarette would be fucking glorious, right about now. “Might could make that happen…”

“So Y/N… you didn’t know her before?” he asks, piquing my interest.

I shake my head. “No, just in the pods. She used to listen to us a lot, like you and Josiah did, so I guess she knew me, kinda… Why?”

I see him shrug from the corner of my eye. “Just wonderin’. Ya’ll seem pretty close.”

I shrug back, pulling a hoodie off a metal hanger. “Guess you could say that.” I pop the Twizzler into my mouth and bite off the end, zipping the overfull bag closed and tossing it over my shoulder. “Kinda feel like she’s mine to protect.”

He tosses me the last candy in his pocket as I stand and face him, watching his jaw work as he chews. “Raid the bathroom, too,” he suggests. “Soap would be nice.”

—-

“Got everything you need?” I ask Y/N as everyone gathers out back again. We’re all in a slow-motion hurry, now, as the morning is slowly drifting into noon. 

“Uh, yeah, think so,” she says, zipping the oversized pullover she’d found up around her chin, and pulling a toboggan down over her ears. “It’s so hard to think about it being so hot at night, and there’s ice blowing through the air, now…”

“I know, everything is so backwards,” I agree, leaning down to re-tie my boots. 

As I stand back up, she pulls me to the side, causing me to stumble a little bit into her. “Come here…” she whispers, her hand gripped hard in my jacket. 

“Yeah, whoa, yeah?” I laugh as she catches my fall and takes me in her embrace. 

“I found something else, while I was searching the house,” she whispers, her eyes trained on my face. 

“Oh?” I ask. “What’d you find?”

She reaches into her pocket, pulling out a brand new razor and a tiny bottle of travel shaving cream. My face falls and I feel my lips flatten into a sarcastic look. “What, you got a problem with this more rugged side of me, or somethin’?” I rake my fingernails through my beard, scratching hard at it. 

She glances around and sees that everyone else is taken up by their own tasks before she wraps her hands in my jacket, pulling me forward into her and around the corner of the house. We stumble back underneath the second-floor porch, hiding in the shadows and away from the wind a bit. She grips me again, pulling me into her as she speaks. 

“No. I love it. Really suits you,” she murmurs, her eyes traveling quickly from my eyes to my mouth. I watch as her breath turns to steam as she exhales, heavy and hot even in the blistering cold. It’s strange to say, but I almost feel like she beckons me without even saying a word. 

And fuck, she is so…

“Know what else I love about it? You feel more mature to me like this, I’ve always been one to prefer facial hair.”

“So I’m guessing you hated it when I used to shave my mustache off for shows, then?” I implore with a teasing tone, leaning in and letting my nose drift over hers playfully. “I couldn’t even grow a beard until I turned 31…”

“Yeah, used to get real fuckin’ mad about it,” she smiles, lurching her hips into mine. “We all used to place bets on if you’d show up with or without one. I lost most of the time, because you always shaved the damned thing off. But I guess it’s also cool that I’m the only one who’s ever seen you like this…”

I growl a laugh, gritting my teeth and feeling the need to be near her again. I feel flushed, even in the cold blowing air, but being near her makes me forget about every bad thing that’s surrounding us. I let my cold hands snake up under her coat, searching like hell to find her bare skin. Finally I find her stomach, attaching my cold palms to it and her hips. “Yeah, actually, I guess you’re right. Just you…”

“Fuck…” she breathes, her body shivering from my touch. “Just me?”

“Just you…” I repeat, taking her bottom lip between my teeth. God, she makes me want to lay her the fuck down, right here in this freezing cold grass. My mind begins spinning with want again as I feel her body weight pressing itself into me, my hands beginning to freely do what they please underneath her layers of shirts, just as they had last night. “What’s the razor for, then? If you like it so well?” 

Her hand comes up and grips the base of my neck, squeezing hard as I allow my hands to finally grip at her tits. She lets out a pitiful sound as her head falls back a little, spurring me on to keep exploring. I can feel her nipples hardening in my fingers, and I’m fighting with everything in me to stop myself from getting too excited, but the more her chest heaves, the harder it gets to concentrate. Her lips are ghosting across mine, and I feel her warm breath landing on my tongue. I need to taste her again.

“Just giving you the option to shave, if you wanted to,” she breathes, her eyes fluttering open and closed. “If not, you can pass it off to Danny.”

Her hand comes around and grips at my jaw, forcing me to thrust my hips into her again. I feel warm all over, almost as if the wind isn’t cutting us in two. There’s no way she can’t tell I’m impossibly hard now, and if the circumstances were different…

“If you like it, I love it,” I breathe into her as our bodies begin lurching and craning onto each other, my hands still massaging at her breasts. God, what I’d give to see her…

“Kiss me, Jake,” she mumbles into my mouth, our lips already almost touching, anyway. My mouth finally overtakes hers, my tongue unable to fight any longer as it begins exploring without any warning. She reacts the same way, pressing her chest more harshly into my hands, practically begging me to feel her even more. We stay this way for a minute or so, just like we did by the koi pond, our bodies pressing and moving as I forcefully back her up against the cold block wall of the house. 

She pushes me away a little, but catches her fingertips in the waistband of my pants, giving her a split second’s access to slip her hand inside. God fucking damnit. 

I take it as it comes as I feel her frozen hand work its way into my boxers, wasting no time in taking me fully in her hand. “Jesus Christ, baby…” I all but moan as I feel my head tilt back on its own. I reach for the wall behind her to steady myself as she squeezes me, her palm soft and gentle but using a little bit of force to show me what she wants. I come in close again, kissing her like my life fully depends on it. “Mmhmm…” I moan against her, my lips vibrating onto hers. 

“Call me baby again,” she whispers when we disconnect for a second to breathe. 

“Baby, baby, baby…” I say quietly, rolling my hips into her hand. “I’ll call you anything you fuckin’ want…”

She whimpers quietly into my mouth again as she pulls at my hair, knotted and ratty at the base of my neck. I’m reminded again of the thought of what she actually sees in me right now, dirty and gritted and unclean, but then again, she probably thinks of herself all the same. Her hair is tangled, her features are tired and a little sunburnt, yet I see her as the most beautiful thing I’ve encountered in ages. All of the things that society deemed as making a person desirable have flown out the window. Because truly, none of it fucking matters. 

Her hand grips around me again as my fingernails dig into the cinderblock, pulsing and throbbing as she takes her time with her show of intimacy. The essence of her is satiating all my senses… her taste, her scent, her touch… 

Then it hits me- this is the rawest I’ve ever felt in my life. 

Attraction comes in all shapes and sizes, and when you stumble upon it, it can either knock you down or confuse you even further. I’ve always been positive in what I want; I know exactly what attracts me and keeps my attention. And I’ve prided myself on that. Coming of age also determines and filters out what you do and do not want in life, and in a lover. And I know that my vision is blurred right now with this overwhelming need to fornicate, but shit, if she isn’t turning all of my past ideals about myself and what I want on their fucking tops. 

She’s different… she’s headstrong and brave, smarter than I could ever even think about being. She’s bold, and she’s unashamed. She acts as though she comes from a time that she didn’t have any business being in. She’s fucking beautiful, taking my breath away with every stolen glance. Yet she’s reserved in all the ways that I am… thinking before she speaks, studying people before she trusts them. I can tell all of this about her, and I’ve committed it all to memory, and I’ve only known her for less than a few weeks. 

Raw, unbridled and desperate, the wind biting at our cheeks as the wetness of our kiss coats our lips and faces, her hand gripping over me still, without any shyness about her aura, at all. Her preference of privacy stunning me as she shows me that she wants me just as badly as I want her. Not because of who she knew me as for the majority of our lives, but who she sees me as right now, untamed and ravenous for one another. And I am fucking enamored.

My hand leaves her breast and travels to grip her ass, covered in layers of pants and coveralls, but I don’t care. I hike her leg up across my hip, letting our bodies become closer as the cold wind whips through the bright green trees. I glance around every few seconds so that I’m positive we’re still alone, though at this point my mind is so fogged with desire that I truly couldn’t care less if we were caught. Her body is warm and inviting, and I let my fingers grip into the muscle between her ass and thigh, squeezing and kneading the skin there as her body rolls into mine again. 

“Would it be too forward of me to say that I fucking want you?” I blurt out with a forced whisper, my mouth overtaking my mind for just a second.

She laughs a little as we separate, her pupils blown as she shakes her head quickly from side to side. “No. It wouldn’t be too forward at all,” she says, squeezing me harder than she has, yet. “I’m the one with my hand on your cock, stupid.”

Fuck fuck fuck. Shit, get it together. My body shudders as I let out a quiet grunt of aggravation, completely blown with desire as my fist pounds into the wall that’s holding us up.

I swear if we weren’t fucking leaving in two goddamned minutes…

“I swear to god, baby, I do…” I growl again, making her grip on me move at a quicker pace. 

Just then we’re surprised by loud conversation near the fire pit, a rustle of everyone gathering up again breaking us from our intertwinement. She removes her hand from my pants and I adjust myself, rolling my eyes at our interruption as my teeth grit with annoyance. We both look at one another with the tiniest bit of shame on our faces, pink and wet with the after-effects of the session. I nod to the side as I silently tell her we’d better go. 

“Wait, Jake,” she whispers, pulling me back by the hand a little. “That’s not what I really wanted to give you.” Her closed fist stuffs into my jacket pocket and drops something inside it, and I watch her coyly turn and walk away with the sweetest smirk on her lips. 

Puzzled, I reach into the pocket and feel the familiar feeling of a small plastic package in my hand. A condom. I can’t help the cheesy smile that crosses my face even if I wanted to. I pull it out to inspect it, looking first and foremost for an expiration date. 

I glance back at her, purely entertained by her bold action. “2034,” she answers the question I didn’t even have to ask. “Actually found a whole box. We’ve got all kinds of time.” She shoots me a wink as she tops back into the gravel pit, going to join the others without me so as not to raise too much suspicion. 

Truly, if she thinks we’re waiting that long, she can go ahead and keep lying to herself. She has no idea what she’s doing to me, and it’s only worsening as the hours tick. For a mere five minutes, my carnal needs completely overshadowed the fact that we’re about to go on a mission that could cost us our lives, and the fact that my brother is currently being fucking brainwashed by entities that belong to another realm completely. I punish myself, but only for a second, as I know for a fact he would go on some big tirade about how humans need sex to thrive and survive in life. He wouldn’t fault me for it at all. In fact, he’d probably celebrate it with me. 

—

“Everyone gather, here is what we’re going to do,” Odin presents himself with a commanding tone, looking each of us in the eye as he speaks. We all take our places near the extinguished fire pit, backpacks and supplies in hand as we all listen intently. I try my best to calm my nerves and take in every detail of his directions, knowing that things could change at the drop of a hat. 

“Josiah and Robbie have reason to believe that your families have been taken to another set of pods just south of here, where no sinkholes have been reported as of yet. These pods are a bit smaller, locked down just as the ones you were in, but if they are going to be anywhere nearby, we assume that it is there,” he explains. “We will travel as a unit, sleep in shifts, and take cover as much as possible under the hindrance of the treelines. The brothers will scout, but we’ve decided it best to arm you, as well.”

Shit. I’ve fired a gun maybe twice, three times in my life? But when it comes to life or death…

The brothers bring us firearms that they’d found inside the home, passing them off to Danny and I. I throw it across my back and hope to the heavens above that muscle memory would kick in, had I need to actually use it. 

“I don’t believe that you will actually need these, as I will be with you always and our most dangerous threat are the hooded guards, of whom I can put to sleep with an arrow,” Odin goes on. “And I’m sorry, we can’t risk the sound of gunshot giving away our location. The smoke from this fire was already too much.”

We all bid a silent goodbye to the house that gave us the shelter we needed, and took off on foot from the coverage of the yard and nearby woodline, watching and waiting for the next threat to come our way.

Y/N

Was I too forward? Did I say too much? Did I move too fast… was the condom overkill?

A million and a half questions are rolling through my mind as we all traverse the heavy trails, making our way south to the other set of pods. We know it will be about a day’s travel, but luckily, with the guidance of Odin and the newfound spirit Sparrow had instilled in each of us, we know the journey will be fruitful. Treacherous, and probably a bit dramatic, but fruitful. Now that we have a better idea of where our families are, and likely Paps, I have a bit more pep in my step to get to him. And to Josh. 

Of course it wasn’t overkill, he reacted exactly how I expected him to. He even said he wanted me. Hello? Me?? I don’t even know what is happening between Jake and I, it’s difficult to even fathom. Just months ago he was an image on my phone screen or a video on my stupid tikok feed, but now. Now… 

I find myself wanting to text my friends again. Say, ‘You are never going to fucking believe this. Like, you’re really not…’, and they really wouldn’t. It’d be too good to be true. It’d take convincing, it’d take proof, it’d take receipts. I can hear them all squealing through voice memos, sending long strings of mismatched letters that don’t form words, immediate facetimes so they could watch me explain myself to their faces. Listen to every detail that we had all envisioned at one point or another in our lives.

But it’d never happen. I don’t even know if they’re all alive. 

“Watcha thinkin’ about?” I hear Sam’s voice suddenly startle me from watching my feet walk across the ground. 

“Oh, ah, nothing. Just…my friends,” I say to him, giving him a sullen smile as I pull my jacket closer around me. “I was thinking about what they’d say if I could tell them that I ended up meeting up with you guys. If they’d believe me.”

“Hm,” he laughs. “You think they would?”

“It’d take some convincing, but, I think they’d know I wouldn’t make something like that up,” I grin, pulling a few pieces of tree limbs away from my path. 

“Crazy that we all ended up here,” he says. “Crazy how we all found each other.”

“I know,” I breathe, glancing to Jake ten or so steps ahead of me. “I never even thought I’d even get to have a conversation with any of you, let alone–”

“Sneak off with one under a porch?” he cuts me off. 

I– oh fuck.

“Sam, what– what are you talking about,” I stutter, my face falling into a deep dark shade of red. Oh my god, if he saw us…

He lets out his classic guttural ha-ha laugh as a particularly harsh wind rips through us. His loud laugh causes Jake and Danny to whip around and look at us, and I shoot them and Sam a deathly glare. But I know that Jake probably notices the worry on my face. 

“I’m not gonna rat you out, don’t worry,” he goes on. “I didn’t see anything… just… watched you sneak off. That’s all. The rest wasn’t my business.”

“The rest?” I squeak, trying to stay quiet. “Sam!”

He’s gritting his teeth together in a huge, shit-eating smile, hissing annoying little laughs as he pulls sticks free from our way. I feel like I could trip him and watch him eat dirt right now, the little twit. Jake keeps turning around and glancing at us; he knows his brother is digging himself a cute little hole to jump into if he isn’t careful. 

“What the fuck do you think happened?” I press, kind of wanting to hear what he has to say. 

“Hey, I said it’s none of my business,” he goes on, puffing his cheeks up with air as he avoids laughing again. “My brother’s love life isn’t any concern of mine.” 

Will you please quit using that word, Samuel…

“God, can you just, not? Please?” I bark in a quiet tone, completely enjoying this back and forth with him. “I already feel weird enough…”

“Why?” he asks way too quickly. 

“Because,” I bite. I toss my hands up, trying to get him to understand. “I was, ya know… A fan, and stuff, and now it’s like..” 

“Oh whatever,” he interrupts me. “Hey Y/N, the goddamn world is ending and all our loved ones got killed by a flesh-eating rash. Yours did, ours did. There’s no such thing as levels of hierarchy anymore, if that’s the way you’re looking at it. We’re just fucking humans, ya know? We’re all just out here trying to survive this shit. Please don’t think like that…” he says a little confrontationally. “We could run into freaking Taylor Swift right now, and she’d still be trudging along in this damned frozen jungle just as we are.” 

I giggle at his comparison, as corny as it is, feeling just a little more at ease. “You’re right, you’re right. Just. Strange, I guess.”

He shrugs. “It is strange, Y/N. Nothing about anything that has happened in the past year is anything close to normal. But… maybe you were meant to run into him in the pods. Maybe it was meant to be this way, who knows?”

I nod, glancing again up to Odin and Sparrow on the horse to make sure they haven’t noticed any threats. 

“You guys are cute together, too,” he adds. 

I roll my eyes. “Ugh, Sam, don’t make me gag. I will shove you down onto this thorn bush.”

“I’m serious,” he laughs. “I don’t mean to poke fun at you. I’m just saying, maybe this is a really, really good thing, Y/N. He seems… I dunno. Excited. Even while worrying about Josh. It’s like you come around and he’s instantly relaxed. I think you have more of an effect on him than you realize.”

“HOLD!” Odin suddenly says from the front of the group, holding his fist high in the air as everyone freezes where we stand. My heart begins pattering as he slowly hops down from his horse, leading Sparrow to do the same. I watch as he pulls his bow from his back and loads it, Sparrow doing the same as she pulls her sword from it’s sheath at her side. 

“Fuck, what’s happening, what’s going on?” I whisper to Sam as he instantly grabs onto my shoulder, quietly leading us nearer to the front with Danny and Jake. 

The brothers bring up the rear and have their weapons drawn and ready. I don’t hear anything, and I don’t see anything, but I do feel Jake’s hand land forcefully on my hip as we gather in a protective circle. 

“Do not fire your weapon unless we say so, got it?” Robbie says to Jake and Danny as he passes, and I feel my heart drop. They both nod in understanding. The brothers exchange a few hand signals as they quickly dash off the trail beside us, keeping eyes with Odin as they scout around. 

“What did they hear?” Jake asks us, and we all shrug as our eyes stay trained on our surroundings. The wind has settled a bit, but the sun is bright and hot as it shines through the leaves of the trees. There’s bits of ice on the tall grasses beside us, and I feel myself become disoriented with the way the weather is working, again. 

I feel my heart pounding in my ears as my eyes scatter around the thick woods, Jake’s hand clutching mine protectively, now. I hear cracks in the trees, I hear steps that don’t sound like steps. High up, and down low. Sparrow backs up toward us, her dusty light following her as the wind floats her long hair into the air. 

A fast glance from Odin tells her something I cannot read, and he quickly hops back onto his horse, kicking his leg into its side as it takes off just off the pathway. They’ve disappeared and we’re still left clueless, the brothers back from their scout and closed in, just as confused as we are. 

“What was that?” I ask Sparrow quietly, my hot breath floating like smoke across the air. 

“More guards, they aren’t very close, but we can sense when they’re near,” she replies. “Their tactics to find us are becoming more clever, as they are now being told that you’re missing from the pods. And that Josiah and Robbie have turned on them.”

“They can come and fuckin’ get us, if they want us,” Robbie snarls as he readjusts his weapon. “Pardon my language, Ma’am.” 

I watch Sparrow smirk, giving him a look that says she is the last one he should worry about offending. 

“Come, let’s continue on,” she says as she draws her sword and keeps it protectively at her side as we keep going. “Odin will alert me if anything is close.”

It feels like my feet don’t want to move without me actively telling them to, now. The fear that’s beginning to settle in my bones has grown tenfold after that scare, and without me being able to see Odin. He has become a wall of peace and protection for us in the past few days, and it feels strange not having him in my line of sight. 

But still yet, Jake’s hand clutches mine, and to me, that feels more safe than anything else in our crumbling world. 

We walk along for another silent twenty minutes or so, clumped together and anxious along what used to be an old worn-in path used by hikers and bikers, now very much overgrown and succumbing to the wild again. Thorns catch on my clothing, and rocks and dirt scatter as I step, but we keep along, our eyes watchful and patrolling as we head south. I wish to god Odin would reappear. 

As we walk in the quiet, my mind drifts to Paps and what he might be doing right now, what they might be doing to him. Watching him be ripped away from me might be one of the most aggravating and terrifying things I’ve ever had to witness, and even though I know he is the strongest man I know, deep down I know that he hides his fears. 

If they really have taken him as a pawn for their testing, will he still have his memory? Will he remember me at all?

I feel a shudder as the frigid air envelops me and bites at the tip of my nose, making me feel like I’m frozen to the core. This cold feels different, especially with the sun shining so brightly. It doesn’t feel like it used to, it almost seems as though the debilitating feeling of fear is sewn into it, nefariously making the hairs on the back of my neck stand up. My body doesn’t shake with the chill anymore, but it shakes with the unending fear of not knowing what the next second of my life will hold. What the earth will be doing. If we will be alive tomorrow or not. And the most terrifying thought of it all, is that there is nothing we can do to change it.

The wicked shiver chills me down to my soul…only time will tell.

I miss Paps so badly, and I want nothing more than to get to him. The possibility of their family being in the same pod as Paps is likely, which makes me feel a little bit better, but what are we going to do when we get there? Ambush the place? Sneak in a back door while we try not to get caught?

Surely Odin and Sparrow have thought it through, and I’m sure that the brothers have some sort of plan as to how to infiltrate the building. Or maybe, we’re just flying along with no plan at all. Because truly, none of us know the reality of what we're walking into.

Sam and Danny trail behind me, steadfast and courageous, truly grown into the men that I always envisioned they might have. I know they are just as worried as Jake is of what state of mind we will find Josh in, but I think they are holding it together for him. They don’t want to speak- yet- and bring such a horrific reality to life. If Josh is too far gone, and his mind is not his own anymore, will we have to leave him behind for the safety of ourselves?

I can’t even fathom that thought, right now. There is no way that will be our new reality. Starting a new life without Josh is just…

The sun has begun to slip behind the trees, and I know that the heat will return soon and we will all be sweating in the night air instead of freezing. I’m ready to feel a little relief from this new shiver that’s taken up shop in the deepest tissues of my body. In the back of my mind, I hope that Sparrow’s ability to make us all feel more at ease doesn’t take away from her energy source; she doesn’t know how badly we all need her.

Just as my mind feels as though it’s completely shoved full of too many unanswered thoughts, heavy cloud coverage moves in over the sun and begins casting strange shadows across the thick woods around us, and suddenly, my wicked shiver turns from a physical feeling into a subconscious gut suspicion of uneasiness. 

The wind hasn’t blown in minutes, now. 

I slow my steps, glancing around through the trees as darkness begins to shower us, faster and faster. Odin isn’t back yet, and the air feels as if it is standing still and creeping in around us. Something isn’t right. 

Suddenly I get the urge to pause and listen, stopping myself in my tracks as Sam bumps into me from behind. “Whoa, what’s–”

“Shh,” I hold my hand up to him, watching as Jake has noticed I’ve stopped, too. 

“You’re right, child, something feels wrong,” Sparrow says quietly from in front of Jake. Her hand grips her sword more tightly as she cranes her neck all over, looking up and around and through the woods. My chest tightens as I feel as though I’m preparing myself for something, something that has intention to hurt me. Hurt all of us. The feeling that I had when Paps and I had driven the truck into town and were stopped by those creatures has come back full force. Like a dark black cloud is hanging over me, and there is no way I am ever going to wash the feeling of dread from my psyche. 

Within seconds, the sunlight is almost completely gone. Jake’s hand takes mine again as we all press together in a terrified huddle, the brothers at the edges with their weapons drawn. “What is this? What’s happening?” Jake relents. I feel myself beginning to panic, my head darting side to side erratically as I begin to hear unfamiliar sounds coming from the forest. Not birds, not animals… there is no wind to rustle the trees, and there is no way of seeing what is now surely closing in on us. But I can feel it.

“Stay close, everyone, it seems as though we’re surrounded…” Sparrow says a little more loudly now. Her voice is panicked for the first time since we’ve met her. “Odin, Odin, where are you?” she says to herself, drawing her weapon higher. 

It’s dark, now. Pitch black. The world feels more hollow than it ever has. My skin feels like it could fall from my body as my depraved mindset becomes more and more dreadful. I know that whatever is surrounding us in the shadows is draining every ounce of happiness from my body, and try as I might, I can’t form one positive or uplifting thought. 

“Don’t let it consume you, my loves, don’t let it…” I hear Sparrow's voice as a loud hum begins to eat away at my ear drums, deafening me to almost totality. I grip onto Jake’s hand as we all crowd in together, writhing under the feeling of being so suddenly enclosed and debilitated. I can’t even see what’s around us. Not even Sparrow’s overwhelming power of comfort can match whatever it is they are putting onto us. 

“We should run!” I hear Danny suggest, the drone of the hum making him sound like he is a million miles away. “Let’s go!!” 

I feel him pull away from us as I begin to become disoriented, weakening as the seconds tick. “Jake.. I–” I can hardly form any words as I feel like all my energy is depleting. His hand is still latched tightly onto mine, and I begin to see spurts of light through the darkness of my vision, blurry and bright as my eyelids get heavy. 

“Y/N, no!” I hear his voice in my ear, the sweetest sound I have ever heard. “We’ve got to run, we’ve got to go!” Suddenly I feel as though every emotion has been ripped away from my body. 

Where is my gumption? Nothing matters, we’re all going to die, anyway. 

“Sweet Y/N, run!” Sparrow urges me, too, as I feel Jake begin to pull me along just as I had pulled him through the building as it crumbled into the sinkhole around us back at the pod. 

I can’t move, just leave me here. 

I feel my knees hit the dirt at the same time that I feel many sets of unwelcome hands all over me, burning through my thick coats and jackets as they touch me. The hum grows louder and louder, and my blood grows thicker and thicker. Just leave me…

I’m being pulled two ways- one way with the burning hands and one way toward the man whom I have come to adore so intensely, but I could somehow care less who ends up with me. I don’t even mind one way or the other. My endurance is gone. 

Jake squeezes my hands in the darkness, pulling me with everything in him as I feel Sam and Danny join him in his attempts. “Don’t let go of me, Y/N! Do you hear me!” he screams, his voice so worried and terrified. Why are you so scared, Jake? Why do you care about me? “Don’t let her go, Danny! Don’t let her slip!”

“She’s ours, now, you all belong to us…” I hear the crippling voice of the hooded guard say from behind me. I recognize the sing-song voice from their first attempts at taking us, like sirens luring us into the deepest depths of the night. “There’s nothing you can do, your world is a star defying time… you must come with us…”

Everything is blurry, nothing has shape. The burning hands are gripping at all points of my body, now, as I feel like I’m being ripped in two. I hear Sparrow’s shrieks in the distance, and I feel Jake’s grip on my hands begin to weaken. 

“Sam, Sam, get up! Let’s go! I– I can’t hold you both–”

His hands feel like my only anchors to the earth, sure and grounding, but I can’t find the strength to even try and hold on to them. He’s slipping from me, and it’s then that I realize he’s being pulled by them, too. 

We’re being taken. And there’s nothing we can do to stop it.

“Y/N, baby, please!” I hear his honeyed voice again, still so perfect even when he’s terrified. Don’t be so scared, Jake… you shouldn’t even be worried about me. I mean nothing to you. 

“Let GO of me!!” he yells, but it’s no use. He’s ten paces away from me now as I realize that our hands have finally separated, and the burning hands are still holding me. His screaming voice is nothing but a howl in the distance. “Y/N!!!”

My body feels limp and lifeless as the burning hands hold me upright, pulling my body across bushes and grasses and limbs, my legs and feet falling behind me. But I don’t even care. Why don’t I care? Death is probably soon, anyway. Nothing matters.

The eyes of the creatures taking me are burning a bright red, the drone of the hum still prevalent in my ears. 

Again I hear his voice calling out for me across the hillside, bouncing off the treetrunks and cutting through the warming air as the sound of it warms my soul and kills it at the same time. I want him, I need him… he’s the only thing that’s kept my head above water… But our magnets have somehow lost their polarity. I dig down deep and plead with myself, and whoever in the heavens above will listen to forsake me this one time, and bring me out on the other side of this. I have to help them, I have to find Paps… 

Jake…Please… Don’t let them keep me…

Tags: @gretavangroupie @britney-gvf @sacredstarcatcher @wetkleenex-gvf @farfromthehomelands @takenbythemadness @writingcold @builtbybrokenbells @ohgodthefeeling-gvf @fleet-of-fiction @milkgemini @gvfpal @ageofcj@dancingcarbon @highway-tuna @stardustjake @jakekiszkapunchmeintheface @gvfmarge @gracev0609 @myleftsock @literal-dead-leaf @peaceloveunitygvf @ageofbajabule @slut4lando @jordie-gvf @sadiechar @tinydancer40 @rosabellagvf @capnjaket @lyndz2names @thetroublegetssoloud71 @gretavanomens @spark-my-nature @josh-iamyour-mama @anythingforjtk @alwaysonthemend @danieljlmwagner @klarxtr @fortunatelytinybasement @demonrat444 @gretavansara @watchingover-hypegirl @hippievanfleet @digitalnomadz @raviolilegs @lipstickitty @hippievanfleet @klarxtr @strange-whorizons @do-it-jakey-baby @myownparadise96 @gvf-luna @starshine-wagner @cassiesgreta @joopsandjangs @whimsiliz @kiszkas-canvas @whimsiliz @joopsandjangs @broken0mens @scoreofinfantryvines @whereiskeara @do-it-jakey-baby @miravanfleet @heckingfrick@kiszka-canvas @whimsiliz @joopsandjangs @broken0mens @scoreofinfantryvines @whereiskeara @do-it-jakey-baby @miravanfleet @heckingfrick @jenniferkiszka @jjwasneverhere @gvfmarge @pineapple-photographer @vanfleeter @gretnavannfleet @pineapple-photographer @joshylanefleet @becinabubblegvf @ageofmach1ne

[readyforthegarden]

When the Nightingale Sings - Part Seven

Pairing: Danny Wagner x F!Reader

Synopsis:Medieval AU! In a world where noble alliances dictate futures, you have been betrothed to Prince Emers, a man you barely know and certainly don’t love. As you travel towards the royal palace for your impending wedding, your journey is upended, causing you to run straight into a kind, lonesome hunter. With no choice but to trust him, you embark on a journey together towards the nearest village, navigating through the forest and it’s perils. As the solace you find in his companionship builds will you choose to honor your duty, or will you abandon everything you’ve ever know to follow your heart?

WC: 4600

Warnings: fighting, swordplay, angst

Your feet were carrying you on a mission, and if the rains through the night hadn’t matted down the dirt on the road, you surely would have been kicking up dust in your wake. Danny had still been asleep when you awoke, and you dressed quickly, dawning your cloak and heading through the tavern. Your guilt and shame had swirled into dreams of the criminals in the wood, the helpless and scared feelings that overcame you and propelled you through the dark early morning. 

The forge was empty, and you felt a slight tug of guilt as you realized it was early, and Sam may be asleep. Yet it didn’t stop you from knocking on his door, using all your might. Thumps and shuffling could be heard from behind the door until the sound of sliding metal greeted you and the door opened. Sam squinted at you, barely awake, a grimace on his face. He was shirtless, still pulling his trousers up over his hips. Blinking a few times, he realized it was you in front of him, and looked around for Danny.

“I came alone,” you informed him as you raised the hood of your cloak to see him better. Sam’s eyes darted to you questioningly. “You make weapons, can you also teach how to wield them?” Sam crossed his arms over his chest, leaning in the doorway.

“I could,” he replied, stoic. He studied you closely, trying to figure out exactly what you wanted. “What would a princess need to wield a sword for?”

“A woman would need to wield a sword for protection.” you replied, rolling your shoulders back. “If I’m to be royalty it will mean I am also to be a target. I’ve already been scared for my life twice. Once I was lucky and the second time Danny was there to save me. I would like to learn as much as I can in the time I have here to make sure I never feel like that again.” Sam appraised you for a few moments before pushing off the frame of his door.

“Have you had breakfast yet?”

“I came straight here after I awoke.” you informed him with a shake of your head. Sam pushed his door farther open and stepped back.

“You’ll need to eat if we’re to train.” you entered Sam’s cottage, embracing the warmth as you stepped in from the chilly morning air. He shut the door behind you, gesturing towards the table. Lowering the hood of your cloak completely, you took a seat at the small square. Sam finished dressing, then moved to the fire, beginning to prepare the meal. As he moved about his home, you watched, studying the man in the quiet. His movements were different from Danny’s. Danny moved with purpose, heavy and propelling himself forward. Sam moved with confidence, his steps deliberate and graceful. 

It wasn’t long before a plate of eggs and bacon was sat in front of you, Sam placing himself across the table with his own. A loaf of crusty, warmed bread was in the middle, and he cut himself a slice. Quietly, you thanked him for the food and began eating, your eyes to your plate as Sam’s were on you. It was his turn to study, it seemed. 

“Tell me,” Sam finally broke the silence, chewing on a piece of bacon. Your eyes rose from the table to his.  “Tell me about how you came upon Daniel and his cottage.” 

“Danny told you already,” your forehead wrinkled in confusion. The corner of Sam’s mouth twitched into a smile before he spoke again.

“He did, but I would like to hear it from you,” he replied. “And what happened to make you wake a man up to teach you how to properly use a sword.” swallowing roughly, you nodded. You gave your story, finding it all spilling out in the presence of Sam. His warm brown eyes never wavered as he listened, taking in the details of your journey Danny had left out. Once you finished, Sam took a few moments, thinking over his next words. 

Standing, he walked from the table and over to his workbench, picking up a long dagger and admiring it as he stepped towards you.

“You did not choose much of what this journey has brought you.” he mused, testing the weight of the sword in his palm. “Am I correct in stating that you’re now asking to learn this in case there are fewer choices in the future?” Your silence was all the answer he needed. “And will Daniel be privy to these training sessions?”

“I would rather he not,” you weren’t sure why you didn’t want him to know. Perhaps you didn’t want to have him see you struggle and fail as you learned. Or maybe still wanted to live in the small bubble you were in with him, protected from the harsh reality of your future separation.

“Leave your cloak here, it will be too heavy to maneuver with.” Sam cleared his throat with a nod. “Let’s get started.”

Sam, for all his grace, was a relentless tutor. Once he had taught you the basics with a wooden sword, he drilled them over and over again before even letting you try and spar. Your arms felt weak and sore as you parried his advances over and over again, heavy wood clunking against heavy wood. 

“I think we should break for now,” Sam breathed, ragged from the exertion as a rooster called out the sunrise close by. “If Daniel hasn’t awoken by now, I’m sure Jacob has. You’ll want to make it back before they notice you’re gone.” You agreed, nodding and just as out of breath. Your hair was sticking to the sweat on your face and you longed for a hot bath in your room. Following Sam, you put up your sword and followed him back into the house, gathering your cloak. 

As you fastened the clasp around your neck, your name left Sam’s mouth, catching your attention. 

“May I ask you something?” you furrowed your brow and told him he could. Sam seemed to think over his words, trying to find the right phrasing for what he was curious about. “Do you have brothers or sisters?” the question surprised you, and you turned to face him fully.

“I had a brother.” you answered.

“Older?” 

“Yes,”

“Did he ever chase you when you were young?”

“All the time,” you fought the smile that crept onto your face at the memory of running through the manor grounds with him. 

“And when he caught you, what happened?”

“I ate a handful of mud, most of the time,” you laughed. “But sometimes I would gain the upper hand and whip him too,” Sam smiled as more laughter fell from your lips.

“You have a fighting spirit,” Sam informed you, his eyes locked onto yours. “It’s rare to see a lady with one. I think you’ll survive whatever being royalty will throw at you.” you paused for a moment.

“With your tutelage, I agree.” you opened the door to his home and stepped out before turning back. “I’ll see you tomorrow morning, Sam.”

“Aye, tomorrow morning.”

“Uuuggghhh,” Daniel awoke with a groan, his head pounding, waist sore. He slowly sat up, gingerly holding his side and blinked around the room. Bed was made, you were gone. A heavy feeling arose in his chest, and the night came flooding back to him. His lips were so close to yours, his heart thundering in his chest. It was his second attempt to kiss you, and this time, instead of being interrupted by vagrant criminals, it was you. The heavy feeling in his chest turned to an ache as the memory of your face turning away played over and over in slow motion in his head.

His spiral into guilt, shame, and embarrassment was cut off by a knock on the door, and a head poking through. Jake smiled at Danny as he stepped into the room. 

“Good to see you survived the night,” Jake joked, making Danny roll his eyes as he began to cautiously raise himself from the furs. “How are you feeling?”

“Like I’ve been run over by a carriage with fourteen horses.” Danny groaned, sitting on the bed. “And then dragged through the city by it as well. Where’s-”

“She’s down with Fiora, helping with breakfast.” Jake answered before Danny could get the full question out. “I’ve been sent to retrieve you, for in her words, you’ll need a decent hearty meal to help heal.” Danny nodded, wincing a bit. He was torn. A part of him was dying to see you, needed to see you. He needed to apologize for being so forward last night. So forward you’d woken early and ran out before he could come back to consciousness. The other part of him wanted to hide himself away, perhaps start bunking in with Jake and never speak to you again for fear of embarrassing himself further.

Jake noticed the battle playing across Danny’s face, and walked across the room, nudging Danny’s foot with the toe of his boot.

“What’s the matter?” Jake asked, his brown eyes searching his friend’s face, as if trying to get through to his mind and decipher the thoughts himself. Danny bit his lip, and sighed.

“Last night, I was a little drunk,” Jake snorted, gesturing to Danny’s current state. “Okay, I was more than a little drunk, and we were talking by the fire, and I just….I tried to kiss her.” Jake’s jaw dropped, but he quickly shut his mouth and let it turn into a smirk. 

“And?” Jake quirked an eyebrow at his friend who frowned and shook his head.

“She turned away,” Danny muttered. Jake pursed his lips, his arms crossing over his chest. “It was stupid, and I was drunk, and I think I just got carried away in the moment. We were talking about-,” Danny cut himself off, with a glance to a now ravenously curious Jake. It wasn’t his business about the letters you wrote to the prince. “It doesn’t matter what we spoke about, but I shouldn’t have done it.” 

“Well I agree with her,” Jake shrugged simply. Danny glanced up at him incredulously. “She’s a lady, Daniel, you don’t try to woo her while drunk off your ass.”

“I shouldn’t be trying to woo her at all,” Danny groaned as he stood up. “She’s promised to another. A prince, for that matter.” 

“You,” Jake stepped closer, clapping a hand on Danny’s shoulder, “are a good man, Daniel. You know very well that I’m a man of my word. But I do believe there are some promises that can be broken.” Danny stared into Jake’s eyes, catching the glimmer of mischief in the older man's eyes.  Shrugging Jake’s hand off of his shoulder, Danny rolled his eyes and stepped around him. 

“Not a promise to the prince.” Danny muttered as he left the room, forcing himself to go downstairs and find a seat at the main table in the tavern. 

Fiora had already brought out place settings and a small platter of bacon, the smell of the meat and grease beaconing to Danny. Before he could sit, the kitchen door swung and you stepped out, a smile on your face and a basket of sliced, toasted bread in your hands. You stopped when you saw him, and Danny’s heart froze in his chest, afraid one small beat would send you running away. But instead of turning, you smiled and moved to the table.

“Good morning Danny,” you greeted. “How are you feeling?”

“‘M fine, thanks,” Danny gave you a sheepish smile. 

“Have you checked your bandage? We should replace the honey over your cut and-” Danny stopped you as you moved to set the basket of bread down and move closer to inspect him.

“I’d like to have breakfast before I risk another sewing lesson.” he half-joked. It was your turn to sheepishly smile and nod. 

“Of course, of course. Here, have some bread.” you held the basket out to him. Danny eyed it carefully before eyeing you, causing you to laugh. “I didn’t make it, Fiora did. Don’t worry, she told me all about leavening and its importance.” Danny chuckled and grabbed a piece from the basket before you set it to the table. Danny glanced around, noting the two of you were alone, and this could be the last time you were for hours.

“About last night,” he began quietly. You put up your hands in front of him, this time being the one to halt the conversation.

“Please, do not worry about it.” you insisted. “We both had a bit too much to drink, there’s nothing to be sorry about. It’s a new day so let’s move forward.” 

“As you wish,” Danny nodded, taking a bite of the toasted bread and sitting down as Jake entered the room, a plate of scrambled eggs in his hands. Fiora trailed behind with a pitcher of water, beckoning you all to sit and enjoy the breakfast. 

Your days started with Sam from then on. You would wake before Danny and creep out of the tavern, making your way to a hearty breakfast and lesson from the tall brunette. You were a quick learner, much to Sam’s surprise, though your parry was a bit too slow for his liking. 

“Move quicker!” Sam shouted at you as he moved to attack. “There are people who are trained all their lives to kill with one blow.”

“I am trying!” you groaned, raising your blade to meet his with a loud clunk. “This stupid wooden sword is too heavy!”

“And you think steel will be any lighter when your life is on the line?” Sam countered with a grunt as he pushed you back. Annoyance bubbled up in your gut and you found your footing quickly and lunged forward, just as Sam jumped out of the way. You fell to the earth, sword falling from your hands as they reached out to brace your fall. Scrambling you crawled away before Sam’s boot caught your heel. You turned over, and came face to face with the tip of his wooden sword grazing your nose. “I am trying to prepare you for as much as I can, in what time we have left. You need to be more agile.” 

You stared up at him, breathing heavily. You knew he was right, and you knew it was the embarrassment of being inexperienced getting to you. It burned your cheeks red and without thinking you twisted your ankle and rolled your body, bringing Sam down to the ground next to you. Grabbing your sword you untangled your legs from his and scrambled to your feet, pressing the tip of the blocky blade to his chest. 

“How was that?” You asked as Sam blinked up at you, still trying to figure out how he was the one on his ass.

“Better,” he responded, raising a hand and pushing your sword away from him. He stood, finding his own weapon and walking back to the middle of the forge. The sun was just beginning to rise, casting an orange hue beyond the trees, and lighting Sam’s silhouette up as if he were an angel. You watched as he tossed down the wooden sword onto his work table, grabbing a small rag and wiping the sweat from his forehead. 

“Are we done already?” The rooster hadn’t crowed yet, the usual signal to end your training. 

“With weapons, yes.” Sam sniffed, tossing the rag onto the table and walking forward. “Your skill seems to be in hand to hand, so I want you to show me what you can do.” He took on a fighting stance and your eyes widened. 

Using your panic against you, Sam rushed towards you. With a squeal of surprise, you dodged his grasp, turning and facing him again as he skidded to a halt where you had been standing. He lunged again and you bolted, trying to run past him towards the gate to the forge. His arm shot out, grabbing your waist and pulling you back. 

You wriggled and pawed at his large hands clasped over your stomach as he began to haul you back. You tried headbutting, tossing your head back but he kept dodging. 

“You can get out of this,” Sam told you, “Come on, you can do this.” His arms tightened and you gave up on trying to pry his fingers up. Wriggling more, you kicked your legs back, making contact with His shins. Sam grunted in pain but didn’t let go. Tightening your hands into fists, you began twisting your body back and forth, attempting to loosen his grip. You could feel his arms tense, trying to keep you in place. Your elbows began flying back as you twisted, and you tried to put as much pressure into the blow as you could, coming in contact with Sam’s shoulder. 

With a gasp, his grip loosened and you dropped back to your feet, spinning and kicking a foot up to his chest to knock him back further. Sam clutched his chest, gasping for breath as he dropped to his bottom on the ground. As your fight or flight mentality waned, your hands covered your mouth at the sight of him. 

“Oh, I’m sorry Sam! Did I hurt you?!” You began to step forward as he raised a hand up for you to pause. 

“I’m okay, just a bit winded,” his voice was raspy. He went to speak again, but was cut off by another voice. 

“What a lovely morning,” your head snapped over to see Josh leaning over the fencing of the forge, a smile on his face. “Here I come to have breakfast with my little brother, and get to see him knocked on his arse!”

“No one invited you for breakfast,” Sam grunted as he staggered back to his feet. Josh shrugged in response.

“I was out of eggs, and knew you’d have some.”

“And why not go to Jake’s before leaving the village to find me?” Sam quirked an eyebrow. Josh pursed his lips as his eyes danced over to you. “Surely he’s closer?”

“Perhaps I had the vision of a cloaked maiden heading towards the forge, thought it was odd to see one going to you and not scurrying back home at such an early hour.” Sam shot his eldest brother with a look of disdain. “And I come to find yet another peculiar sight of a woman trying to get away from you.” 

“He was not harming me, Josh.” You stepped closer to the fence. “I promise you he was not.” Josh looked between you and Sam, waiting for a further explanation. “I’ve asked Sam to train me so that I may protect myself in the future. It is nothing more than that.” 

“I see,” Josh’s eyes softened. “Regardless it was a wonderful sight to see your boot in his chest. However if you’ve grown so much as a millimeter in size from this training I’ll flog you myself. I’ve already cut your fabrics.” 

“She’ll fit in your frocks just fine, Josh.” Sam rolled his eyes as the rooster crowed. “That’ll be the end of our training, love. Go fetch your cloak and hurry back before Daniel is awake.”

“Wait, Danny doesn’t know about this?” Both you and Sam shook your heads. Josh was quiet for a few moments before speaking. “Yes, go and fetch your cloak. And bring some eggs with you as well, I will escort you back to town.” Feeling like a child about to be scolded, you followed Sam back into his cottage, adorned your cloak and took the three eggs he offered to his brother before meeting Josh at the door. 

The walk back into town was quiet. Josh seemed to enjoy letting your anxiety build, letting the questions he wanted to ask dance between you. When you were closer to the tavern, you began to break away, yet Josh’s hand grasped your arm, and tugged you towards his shop. 

“If you’re to be keeping a secret, you’ll need an alibi,” he winked at you. “And besides, I need to know if you’ve grown in the past week.” 

Once inside, Josh set the eggs down in one of the counters, letting them sit and tugged you to his work desk. His hands reached up, unclamping your cloak for you and he draped it over the back of his chair before standing back and looking at you. 

“You’ve got dirt all over you.” Josh clicked his tongue. “You’re not trying very hard to keep this a secret, going home like that?”

“I-“

“Jake told me you’d been sneaking out early,” Josh sighed. “He saw you the other morning and came to tell me while he was running errands. He thought you and Sam were…” Josh waved a hand in the air, dismissing the unspoken claim of a love affair. “Why else would you leave in darkness and shadow and return smelling of sweat?” 

“I knew it would look bad,” you admitted, blush crawling up your cheeks. “But I wanted to do this on my own.”

“Well, I watched you go, and then got tired of waiting for you to pass by on your way back and found you. Why hide this from Danny?” The words fell from your lips before you truly understood what you were saying. 

“I don’t want him to see me as helpless anymore.” you felt tears sting your eyes as you willed them away, your mind still trying to make sense of your new confession. “The idea of him watching me fail to protect myself…I don’t understand why but I could not bear it.” Josh leaned into the Kiszka trait of studying, and took in your state before sighing softly. 

“There’s a basin in that room.” He pointed to a door on the far side of the room. “I’ve prepared water for my bath, but I think you could use it more. When you’re finished, I’ll have clothes for you.” His tone was soft yet firm, and you found yourself following his directions, feet moving on their own. 

The bath was just what you needed after training, wiping the grime and dirt off of you, cleaning your face and hair and enjoying the warmth that had escaped you in the morning air. Josh had quickly dipped into the room, placing a towel and the clothes he promised on his bed and quickly leaving you alone again. Once the water began to lose its steam, you got out and dried off before dressing, the garments fitting perfectly. You hadn’t felt as comfortable in clothing since you could remember, and as you laced the front of the bodice, you realized he had made them for you specifically. 

The bodice and skirt were a pale blue color, the tunic beneath a soft ivory. The lace he accompanied with the bodice was a matching blue, and you smiled. It was the dress before your gown, a test of the colors, you thought as you emerged from his bedroom. Josh was sitting at his desk, scribbling away on a sheet of parchment. A creak in the floorboards under your feet had his head raise, and even he couldn’t hold back the sparkle in eyes. 

“Yes, the blue silk will look gorgeous,” he murmured. “Come, let’s do something with that hair.”

“I can just braid it,” Josh rolled his eyes. 

“I will not have your braids drip on my fabric.” Your confused face made him huff an impatient breath. “If you are to be here I’m going to use you to pin your gown for sewing. Might as well make your alibi all the more plausible.” You nodded in understanding and Josh stood, moving past you to his bedroom then back again, a comb in hand. He had you sit on the small stool he used to hem gowns and began combing your hair. 

His fingers were gentle and comforting, smoothing through your hair as he twisted and wove strands. You felt the pinch and scrape of hair pins across your scalp, and within minutes your hair had been braided and wrapped at the top of your head as a crown, placing a matching blue bow to your bodice at the base. Coming in front of you, Josh admired his work, before gently tugging a few slim strands out, letting the loose waves frame your face. 

“There, no water on my silks.” he smiled before instructing you to stand. He moved around the room, collecting pieces of your dress. As he worked, you tried to decide if you should tell Danny about your training, seeing as everyone else seemed to know. The struggle must have shown on your face, because as Josh glanced up to you, he sighed. 

“For what it’s worth, I don’t believe Daniel thinks you’re helpless.” he murmured, pins in the corner of his mouth. “In fact I think he’s quite in awe of your bravery since meeting you.” 

“Please,” you shook your head. “I’ve been a damsel in distress running through the woods.” Josh stepped back, taking the pins from his mouth as he looked at the garment and then you. 

“My dear, do I need to remind you that you stabbed a man?”

“He was going to hurt Danny,” you countered and Josh shrugged, his demeanor changing suddenly.

“Maybe, but what should you care if he did or not?” The question ignited a flame of anger and indignation in you. 

“Because I lo-“ the words halted on your tongue as Josh watched you closely. You tampered the flames back down and cleared your throat. “I have grown to care for him very much.”

“Ah, I see.” Josh knelt down, beginning to place the skirts. He let the silence fall as he guided the silk around you. Just as it was feeling comfortable, he spoke up again, ruining the allusion of peace. “What would be so bad in letting yourself love him?” Josh said the word you couldn’t, and you could already feel the crack in your heart deepening. 

“What use would it be?” you whispered back, fighting the forming lump in your throat. “Why torment myself with a dream just to have it ripped away like everything else?”

“You don’t have to marry Prince Emers,” Josh’s brows furrowed as you scoffed, rolling your eyes. 

“I have a duty to my family.” shaking your head you averted your eyes from his, knowing the brown pools would draw you in further to the conversation. 

“For all you know they think you’re dead,” Josh argued back. “A ghost owes the living nothing.” Josh left the conversation there, finally allowing the silence to settle. Once he was through with you, he sent you back off to the tavern, but not before imparting another crumb of his wisdom.

“I think, above all else, we have a duty to be true to ourselves.” he murmured, moving his head and keeping eye contact with you as you tried to avoid his gaze. His hand reached out, cupping your chin and making you look directly at him. “It’s the only way to find happiness in this life.”

“I was taught very young that happiness is just a wish,” you replied. Josh’s frown deepened as his hand moved from your chin to cup your face.

“The good thing about that then,” he responded, the corner of his mouth turning up in a small smile. “is that wishes can come true.”

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@joshsindigostreak@sinners-go-to-drink-the-wine@sammysprincess@sammykiszkamyass@belovedsamuel@sunfl0wer-power@indigo-starcatcher@sammyscherub@earthlysorrows@losfacedevil@xserenax-13@myownparadise96@watchingovergvff@gretavanfleetposts@josiee-gvf@joshkiszkatoothgap@madneedshelp @myownparadise96@demonrat444@dannyandthekiszkas @tearsofbri @paleshadow-ofadragon @happy-harpy-stuff@like-a-woman-in-a-dream@starshine-wagner @objectsinspvce @josh-iamyour-mama@mountain-in-springtime@cal-a-bungaa@capturethechaos@holdingup-fallingsky @gvfpal

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@mar-rein12@laurynnnn125@maddie-rae@eraofstardustchords@musicislove3389 @starsinmyeyes00

[queenshelby]

Yes! Mr Murphy (Rewritten)

PART 46: FAMILY

Pairing: Cillian Murphy x Reader

Warning: Lots of Angst, Age Gap, Teacher x Student, Extreme Smut

PLEASE COMMENT AND ENGAGE!

When you arrived at home later that day, you asked Emma to give you some space and, as luck would have it, Nina was Danielle, giving you and Cillian some time alone. 

"Hey babe, how did you go?" he asked as soon as you walked through the door of his apartment, his face etched with concern.

Cillian placed his arms around you gently, pulling you close to his chest. His embrace was warm and inviting, but something inside you hesitated. Even though you longed for affection and solace, this situation required a candid discussion – and one that you desperately wished to avoid.

"Well, I know why I have been getting sick recently," you finally admitted with reluctance, taking a seat on the couch with him.

Cillian furrowed his brow, his blue eyes searching yours for answers. 

"And? Tell me," he said, his voice filled with concern as he noticed your reluctance and, just as he did, you steeled yourself against the wave of pain that threatened to engulf you.

"It turns out that I am pregnant," you uttered these words, knowing they would undoubtedly affect everything in your world, including your future together.

Silence fell upon the room like a dense fog, filling the void where air used to flow freely.

For what felt like hours, neither of you spoke, neither of you moved, your hearts throbbing loudly within your respective chests. The weight of the revelation hung heavily in the air, thickening until it became almost suffocating.

Then, you saw it. Flickering uncertainty shimmered in Cillian's eyes, betraying the fact that he hadn't seen this coming either. It dawned on you that despite all the passionate nights shared between the sheets, he too must be feeling as dumbfounded as you.

"Are you sure?" Cillian questioned you softly, a tremor lacing his tone.

Slowly, you nodded, acknowledging the gravity of the truth and the implications that came along with it. Both of you sat motionless, caught in the vortex of uncertainty swirling around you both.

Finally, breaking the silence, Cillian cleared his throat before speaking again. "But you said that you couldn't fall pregnant after your surgery earlier this year," he pointed out, his voice conveying confusion mixed with disappointment.

You bit your lip, the guilt welling up inside you. There was no use denying it anymore, and besides, you owed him honesty, especially in such matters. Taking a deep breath, you explained the entire incident leading to the conception.

"Before my operation, the doctor assured us that there was very little chance of falling pregnant. I lost one of my fallopian tubes and have a substantial amount of scar tissue on my uterus. The chances were near zero," you recounted, watching as Cillian digested the information, but chuckling slightly, nonetheless.

"Cillian, I don't think that's funny," you snapped, irritated at his cavalier attitude toward something that could fundamentally alter both of your lives.

He quickly looked away, shame evident on his features. "No, sorry. It's just… your choice of words amused me. You said that the chances were 'near zero'..." he explained before taking your hands into his and then there was an awkward pause before you decided to delve deeper into the matter at hand. 

"I made an appointment for a termination procedure," you told him bluntly, hoping that stating it plainly might ease the tension building between you. However, you noticed that instead of reacting negatively or showing anger towards your statement, Cillian remained silent for several moments, contemplating the gravity of your words. Eventually, he spoke.

"What if we kept it?" he proposed, surprising you with his unexpected suggestion. 

Your mouth opened to protest, but he raised his index finger and stopped you mid-sentence.

"Don't say anything yet," he commanded gently. "Just hear me out," he begged and you nooded.

"I know that I said that I do not want any more children and I know that you said that, having a child of your own, was not on your radar, but what are the odds Y/N? Maybe it was fate?" Cillian reasoned earnestly, gazing deeply into your eyes, seeking confirmation of his argument.

"I know you would be amazing as a mother and I can see myself starting a family with you," he then finally said, and his proposal left you speechless because you weren't expecting him to take this turn.

You felt like a rollercoaster ride of conflicting emotions was running wild through your body - shock, happiness, excitement, and dread all melded together. And while you could feel your heart bursting open with love for Cillian, the fear of raising a child amidst his hectic work schedule also loomed large. Yet, his sincerity touched you deeply, making it hard to resist his request.

"You really want me to keep the baby?" you asked tentatively, wanting to ensure that you understood correctly. Cillian smiled reassuringly, a mix of pride and joy spread across his visage.

"Yes Y/N. I know that, realistically, it happened too soon, but I already turned 47 and the chances of you conceiving again when we are ready are far too low, so let's start our family together now," he cupped your face tenderly, looking at you with adoration. "This could be a blessing in disguise," he insisted, adding further conviction to his proposition.

Intrigued, you mulled over his proposal.

Despite your initial resistance due to practical concerns, your feelings began to shift. Deep down, you knew that, if you were to terminate, you might be regretting it later on and, perhaps, this unexpected gift could be an opportunity for growth and a step forward in your relationship. 

The thought resonated strongly with you, and suddenly, it seemed less daunting to consider becoming parents together.

"Fuck, okay. Let's start a family," you agreed to Cillian's plea with resignation, your heart sinking into your belly as you tried to wrap your head around this sudden change of events. The two of you sat silently once more, processing this significant pivot in your lives.

After spending a few minutes in quiet reflection, Cillian pulled you closer to him, wrapping his arms securely around your waist. Sensing your turmoil, he whispered softly into your ear, offering words of assurance. "I promise, we will figure this out together," he vowed.

"Tomorrow, I will get in contact with my real estate agent and find us a house, something with a yard, near the beach," he continued, his plan already forming in his mind. Your heart swelled with appreciation for his determination and willingness to adapt. He truly meant what he said about starting a family with you.

There was still a lot to discuss and prepare for, but somehow, in spite of all challenges ahead, a sense of optimism settled comfortably within you. Perhaps this unplanned pregnancy could indeed bring you even closer together. After all, love knows no bounds and obstacles often serve as catalysts for personal growth.

With renewed hope, anticipation blooming within you, you allowed yourself to envision a new path, one where parenthood awaited at the end of it while Cillian nuzzled your hair, sending a surge of affection coursing through your veins.

"You are going to look incredible with my child growing inside you," he murmured, pressing his lips against your neck again more aggressively this time. 

"Really? This actually turns you on?" you chuckled in response to his growing arousal over the fact that you would soon be huge with child. Cillian grinned widely, his lust apparent.

"I suppose it does," he answered sheepishly, a blend of desire and protectiveness flickering behind his deep blue eyes.

You giggled, feeling a familiar heat igniting within your core. Glancing at the clock, you noted how late it had become. Despite your lingering anxiety regarding this major turning point in your life, a twinge of eagerness took hold as you considered indulging in something you knew would become rather rare once you became parents. 

As if reading your thoughts, Cillian rose from the sofa, pulling you up alongside him.

"Come," he said he led you briskly toward the bedroom, his steps measured and confident and, once you were inside, he pulled you into his embrace once more. 

"I love you so much," Cillian whispered into your ear, sending a shiver cascading down your spine. His touch was gentle, caresses light enough to leave only traces of his presence upon your skin, teasing you without fully satisfying the aching need pulsing beneath your surface now. 

"And I love you too," you replied, your fingers tracing the curve of his jaw, marveling at the warmth radiating off his skin. The scent of his cologne filled your nostrils, evoking a memory of the night you met.

After not too long, you felt his erection pressed firmly against your stomach, and you smirked playfully. Cillian's desire for you was undeniable, despite everything else happening in his life.

He kissed you passionately, hungrily, as though trying to convey volumes with just his lips alone. Your hands found their way underneath his clothes, exploring every dip and curve of his physique. Each caress sent electric currents shooting throughout your body, creating sensual tension between the two of you.

The chemistry between you seemed stronger than ever, as if destiny herself had intervened, conspiring to make sure that these two souls would always remain intertwined.

Moving swiftly and gracefully, you slid off your clothes and made your way onto the mattress, allowing Cillian to follow suit. Your bodies meshed perfectly together, fitting seamlessly like pieces of a puzzle. As you lay side by side, Cillian’s palm rested lovingly on your abdomen, gently stroking the sensitive area, eliciting involuntary moans from your lips.

"How far along are you?" Cillian asked curiously, gliding his hands expertly across your body, mapping out every contour with his gentle fingertips. His movements brought forth waves of pleasure, drawing you closer still.

"Eight weeks," you responded truthfully, closing your eyes briefly, savoring the sensation of his deft touch. Inhaling sharply, you breathed out, letting it pass through your entire being.

"God, I can't wait for you to start showing," Cillian uttered breathlessly, his voice hoarse from passionate fervor.

His words stirred another wave of anticipation within you, heightening your awareness of the changes your body was undergoing.

"Really?" you mused, genuinely surprised at his remark. 

"Yes. I reckon you will look incredibly sexy being pregnant," Cillian stated with confidence, his fingers moving rhythmically against your stomach, sparking electrical charges along your exposed flesh. You couldn't help but laugh in agreement, the idea both titillating and flattering.

Cillian leaned in close to whisper seductively, his breath tickling your ears, causing shivers to run down your spine.

"I don't know why, but knowing that you carry my child turns me on," he confessed huskily, his arm tightening possessively around your shoulder, claiming ownership over your womb.

You laughed, amused by his raw honesty but understanding completely.

"Well, you did a good job knocking me up, against all odds," you retorted, giving him a cheeky smile before you reached below his hips to grasp his member, which was beginning to throb intensely. 

"I suppose you can't keep a good man down," Cillian chuckled before a moan escaped his lips, as your hand encircled his length, skillfully manipulating the shape and size of his cock, driving him mad. His groans grew louder, urging you onward, encouraging your ministrations.

"Let me ride you, while I still can," you demanded, biting your lip, a hint of mischief danced in your eyes.

"Please," Cillian simply begged in response as his gaze locked with yours, a mixture of surprise and admiration etched across his features before he rolled onto his back, presenting himself to you.

Your legs straddled him, sitting high above him, leaving no doubt about who was in control. Lowering yourself onto his waiting length, you let out a satisfied sigh, grateful for this brief respite.

Cillian grabbed your hips, holding them steady as you rode him slowly, enjoying the delicious friction of his hardened cock sliding in and out of your wet folds. With each thrust, a sound of satisfaction echoed between the two of you, amplifying the intimacy shared during this fleeting moment.

Cillian watched you closely, drinking in the sight of your passion-filled face and the way your body moved in sync with his own. It seemed almost surreal to him – the reality of making love to you while you were carrying his child.

As if drawn by some invisible force, Cillian wrapped his arms tightly around you, pulling you closer to him until your skin touched everywhere possible. This simple act drew gasps from both of you, acknowledging the intense connection formed in that single gesture.

"I think your breasts might feel differently soon… they'll grow heavier," Cillian observed, trailing his finger down your bare torso, stopping just short of your full bosom.

"Yes, at which point they will be reserved for our child to use, not you," you mocked playfully, rolling your eyes comically as you bounced up and down on his lap. His grin broadened as his gaze followed your movement, the thrilling spectacle consuming him whole.

"I think that, teaching our child how to share, is a valuable life lesson," Cillian teased, running his fingers through your hair as you continued to ride him.

"I suppose you've got a point there," you conceded playfully, lowering your head to kiss Cillian passionately. 

He returned the favor enthusiastically, devouring your mouth with the same intensity you craved. His tongue danced provocatively against yours, matching your rhythmic pace. Your mutual want for each other escalated rapidly, becoming insatiable, fueling your desire further. 

"I am close," you panted softly, arching your back slightly, desperately seeking release. 

Feeling the powerful tremors coursing through your body, you dug your fingers deeper into Cillian's shoulders, anchoring yourself amidst the unstoppable pull of your climax. 

A mere second later, your orgasm crashed down upon you like a tidal wave, bringing you to your knees, overwhelmed by ecstatic joy.

The world outside ceased to exist as you clung to Cillian, his name escaping your lips in a cry of triumph. His strong arms held you securely, shielding you from the storm raging within.

Slowly, your breath began to even out, the adrenaline subsiding gradually from your system as his speed picked up.

"Fill me with your cum, Cill. Fuck, I want it. Please," you purred, your voice heavy with desire, urging him onward. He obliged, pushing forward one last time, filling you with his essence as your orgasm finally crested. You could hear him calling your name in a low voice as you climbed higher towards the peak, feeling yourself losing control.

It was then, in those moments suspended in time, that you realized just how profoundly you loved him - despite everything that happened. The bond between you transcended mere physical connections, reaching deep into the heart and soul and, just maybe, starting a family with this man was not too bad after all. 

Tags:

@sunbeamseas @saint-ackerman @oatmealisweird @naxxsstuff @amanda08319 @r-m-cidnah @elysiannook @cillshot @infireddabdab @tastycakee @harrysbestiee @lilybabe22 @adalynlowell @henrywintersdearestgirl @ietss @thatgirlthatreadswattpad @ryiamarie @axionn

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[thef1diary]

Above The Chaos | D. Ricciardo

Summary: Amidst your birthday celebration’s chaos, you find solace on the rooftop with a bottle of wine. Daniel joins, offering comfort underneath the starlit sky.

— part of the Birthday Bash fics

Of course I had to post the Danny one on my own birthday 🤭!! I had sm fun writing all of these fics and I hope you loved reading them just as much

pairing: daniel x fem!reader

wc: 1.4k

main masterlist taglist form

© thef1diary 2024. all rights reserved. Do not copy, steal, translate, or repost any of my work

The bass thumped through the floorboards, reverberating in your chest as you navigate through the throng of partygoers. Smiles flashed, conversations melded into a cacophony of voices, and glasses clinked together in a rhythmic cadence, each toast a testament to the joy and camaraderie of the occasion. It's the kind of party that Daniel always excels at throwing, especially for your birthday.

The air is thick with excitement, and you catch glimpses of familiar faces. "Happy birthday!" friends and family exclaim as they pass, their voices drowned out by the thumping bass of the music. You offer grateful smiles and nods in return, the corners of your lips twitching with the effort of maintaining your facade of enthusiasm.

Yet amidst the lively chaos of your birthday party, a particular longing tugged at the corners of your mind, an unspoken yearning for something more profound than the fleeting euphoria of the crowd, something quiet.

As you maneuvered through the crowd, you found yourself drawn towards the kitchen, spotting an unopened bottle of wine sitting on the counter. Quickly swiping it away, your gaze darted through the crowd, finding an escape.

You slipped away unnoticed, a ghost in the whirlwind of merriment, ascending the staircase leading to the rooftop sanctuary. Each step carried you further from the pulsating chaos below, closer to the solace of the night sky. As you emerged onto the rooftop, a soft breeze greeted you, earning a sigh from your lips.

The city sprawled before you, a labyrinth of twinkling lights. It was your favourite spot in your home as you could spend hours here in peace, watching the bustling cars pass through as everyone was eager to get to their destinations.

You found a quiet corner, away from the glare of the city, slipping your heels off and sinking onto a weathered bench, relishing the cool kiss of the night air on your skin.

Closing your eyes, you allow yourself to breathe deeply, filling your lungs with the crisp night air.

You uncork the bottle of wine, the rich aroma filling the air, but you remember that you forgot to bring a glass from downstairs. Just as you ponder the predicament of forgetting a glass, a familiar voice broke through the stillness of the night.

"Hey, there you are," Daniel said softly, still startling you slightly. You placed a hand on your chest, breathing deeply, "you scared me."

"Sorry, didn't mean to. Mind if I join you?" He spoke as he appeared beside you with a warm smile.

You looked at the twinkling sky for a moment, and then back at him. "Not at all," you replied, shifting over to make room on the bench. Out of all the people in the party, Daniel was the one whose company you always welcomed, even if you only wanted silence.

Daniel settled in beside you, his presence a comforting anchor amidst the vast expanse of the rooftop. He glanced at the bottle of wine in your hand, a mischievous smile playing on his lips. "Good choice," he commented, making you look down at the bottle and chuckle.

"I didn't even notice." It was a bottle of wine from his collection. "But I forgot to bring glasses," you added.

Daniel's grin widened, and he reached into the pockets of his jacket, presenting two wine glasses with a flourish. "Not to worry," he said, holding out the glasses towards you. "I came prepared."

You couldn't help but laugh at his resourcefulness, accepting the glasses with a grateful nod. "Thanks Danny," you said, pouring a generous amount of wine into each glass before handing one towards him.

"You're seriously wearing a jacket in this weather?" You eye him oddly, a laugh bubbling up in your throat again.

He shrugs, "you know I get cold, feel my hands." He holds out his free hand in front of you, and you easily clasp it in yours. "Aw, you poor baby," you tease him, setting your wine glass down to poke his reddening nose.

Daniel chuckled as you teased him, his cheeks flushing slightly at your playful jab. "Hey now, don't make fun of me," he protested, though his tone was lighthearted. "Some of us are just more sensitive to the cold."

You grinned, unable to resist poking his nose again. "Well, lucky for you, I happen to be an expert at keeping people warm," you said, squeezing his hand affectionately.

Daniel's eyes sparkled with amusement as he leaned in closer, his breath warm against your cheek. "Is that so?" he murmured, his voice low and teasing.

You felt a shiver run down your spine at the proximity, the heat of his body radiating against yours. You hummed, your voice barely above a whisper. "A birthday girl special."

He leaned his head against your shoulder, one hand holding on to yours while the other swirled the wine in the glass, still not wanting to sip it just yet.

"Speaking of, why are you up here instead of enjoying the party downstairs? it's for you after all," he questioned, his voice softening.

"Just needed a moment to recharge, away from the chaos downstairs," you explained, squeezing his hand once more.

Daniel nodded in understanding, his gaze drifting to the city skyline as if contemplating your words. "I get that," he said, his voice sympathetic. "Sometimes, a little quiet time is all you need to appreciate the celebration even more."

You sighed contentedly, grateful for his understanding. "Exactly," you agreed. "And having you here makes it even better."

"Oh yeah? You're not gonna tell me to leave?" He grinned, a playful tone returning in his voice.

You rolled your eyes, dropping his hand and pushing him away. "Don't make me change my mind," you teased, giving him a mock glare before breaking into a grin. "You're stuck with me now, whether you like it or not."

Daniel chuckled, leaning back against the bench with a playful smirk. "I thought I already was, from the moment we met years ago."

You jutted your chin out, "touché."

With a grin, you picked up your wine glass, raising it in a toast. "To chaotic parties and rooftop retreats," you declared, your voice filled with sincerity.

Daniel mirrored your gesture, his eyes meeting yours with a warmth that made your heart flutter. "To moments like these," he added, his tone soft but filled with meaning.

As your glasses clinked together, the sound echoing softly in the stillness of the night, you couldn't help but feel a sense of gratitude wash over you. Gratitude for the quiet moments of connection, for the laughter, and for the unwavering support of a friend who understood you like no other.

You took a sip of the wine, expecting the familiar taste of Daniel's signature blend. However, to your surprise, the flavor was different, richer and more complex than usual. You furrowed your brows in confusion, glancing at Daniel with a questioning look.

Daniel watched you closely, a playful smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "Notice anything different?" he asked, a hint of mischief in his tone.

You nodded slowly, the taste of the wine lingering on your palate. "Yeah, it's... different," you admitted, searching for the right words to describe the unexpected flavor profile.

Daniel chuckled softly, leaning in closer to whisper in your ear. "I've been working on this blend for quite a while," he confessed, his breath warm against your skin. "I wanted it to be perfect for your birthday."

Your eyes widened in surprise, touched by his thoughtfulness. "You did all this for me?" you asked, feeling a warmth spread through you at the realization.

Daniel nodded, his gaze meeting yours with sincerity. "Of course," he said softly. "You deserve nothing but the best."

As you sat there together, savoring the exquisite flavor of the wine and the warmth of Daniel's company, you couldn't help but feel a sense of calmness wash over you. With each sip, you could taste the love and care that had gone into crafting the perfect blend, and you knew that this birthday would be one you'd never forget.

You leaned your head against his shoulder this time, finding his hand again and threading your fingers between his. “Thank you for everything; the party, the wine, it's perfect.”

“Anything for you,” he murmured, as if stating a simple fact, but it warmed your heart, making you wonder how you were so lucky all those years ago to meet Daniel.

The night stretched on, the stars twinkling overhead like diamonds scattered across the sky. While you retreated to the rooftop for a moment of peace, you realized that you wouldn’t have found the peace in silence like you did in Daniel’s laughter.

Taglist: @lochnoch @llando4norris @monsieurbacteria6 @namgification @lilymurphy03 @sargeantdumbass @hiireadstuff @racingheartsposts @d3kstar @xjval @namjoonswaifu @isabellewinchester @thedecalcomania-blog @casperlikej @khaylin27 @mlioravanfleet @nikfigueiredo @wonnou @jointhehunt67 @gxuh @landoslutmeout @barcelonaloverf1life @regalbanshee @megudaeggu @c-losur3 @thenotoriouserg

[buckybarnesthehotshot]

Not Broken Yet (Daniel Ricciardo x F!Reader)

|ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀʟɪꜱᴛ|

summary: in which he makes up with an old flame upon finding his way back to the track

word count: 4189

warnings: angst, not proofread, mentions of daniel’s “hiatus”, rbr!reader

a/n: how are all of us danny girlies holding up after quali 😭

Australia; November 28, 2018

      An open field in Australia was the solace they needed from their hectic lives as Formula 1 drivers. An open field, a picnic blanket, and a sky full of stars. It was perfect. Even if it rained, it would have been perfect for them still, because they had each other to share that moment with.

      “I think I’m falling in love with you,” she admitted with a bashful expression. She gazed into his eyes, and everything else ceased to exist. The stars in the night sky burned for them like they burned for each other. His brown eyes bore into hers and they knew this was where they were meant to be.

      And he kissed her. He cupped her jaw, one arm wrapping around her waist as he drew her close and kissed her. She had never felt more alive than when she felt his lips on hers. She smiled, content with that moment.

      “I know I’m falling in love with you,” he mumbled against her lips. It was the easiest thing, falling for one another. Falling in love was easy. Working through those feelings, not so much.

Monaco; August 20, 2022

      “It was never this complicated between us, Daniel,” she huffed, exhaustion heavy in her eyes as she pleaded, “Tell me how you feel! What I can do for you.”

      “You can’t do anything,” he frowned, shaking his head as he hunched over the counter, unable to meet her gaze. He knew that if he gazed her way, he would only feel as though he was the biggest failure in the world. She often looked at him with such admiration, yet he questioned whether or not she would admire him the way he was at that moment, “You’ve got your pretty Red Bull seat on lock, just think about that.”

      “So, that’s what all this is about? Your seat?” she questioned, shaking her head, “Daniel, your seat is safe for another season. You can think about your options if you want, but McLaren isn’t getting rid of you that easily.”

      “Except they did, y/n,” his voice grew quiet as he said the words, clearly unable to accept them either, “They’re buying me out of my contract.”

      She remained quiet as she heard the words. Not once in their relationship did she question whether or not she’d still drive with Daniel, yet there they were. His future in the sport was up in the air, while her seat was secure for a few more years.

      “Daniel, we can fix this,” she mumbled, “We’ll talk to your manager, we’ll talk to other teams. It’ll be fine.”

     “There is no ‘we’ in this, y/n!” he insisted, his voice breaking as he finally looked over at her, tears in his eyes, “It’s my seat that I lost, y/n. You don’t have to make this your problem too.”

      “I don’t care!” she exclaimed, “I don’t care if you think you can go on and face this problem on your own, I won’t allow it. You can’t go through this on your own, Daniel. I’m here for you. I’m always here for you. I was here for you when you made the transfer to Renault, I was here for you when you made the transfer to McLaren, and I’m here for you now.”

      “That’s not the same thing anymore, y/n,” he shook her words off. They had been through thick and thin, but they had never encountered anything like this. Not for either of their careers. With his position in Formula 1 unsure, it seemed as though even their relationship was unsure to him. He was questioning his entire future, not just in the sport, but with y/n.

      “Why are you acting like this?”

      “Because,” he shook his head, “Because I’m jealous, y/n. You’ve had a great season, but I’ve had a shitty season. You’ve got a great career ahead of you—”

      “So do you!” she scoffed, “If you think you’re done with Formula 1, I’m going to need you to reconsider those thoughts. Because you’re not. You’re not done yet in Formula 1. You’ve got fans that love you, you’ve got skill, you’ve got talent. Daniel Ricciardo, you have a future in Formula 1!”

      “I find that hard to believe,” he admitted with a bittersweet smile, “I love that you believe in me like this, I do, but we have to be realistic about this, y/n. No team’s going to take me in after the season I had. “

      “You’ll find a team,” she spoke reassuringly, wrapping her arms around his frame, allowing him to rest his weary head on her shoulders as he sighed.

      “I think we need a break,” he blurted out, pulling away from her grasp. She tried so desperately to hold on to him, unwilling to face the reality of what he had just said.

      “No, no, Danny, don’t say that, please,” she pleaded, clinging onto him tighter, “We’ll get through this.”

      “y/n, I need to work through this on my own,” he insisted stubbornly as she huffed, “I can’t have my career issues distracting you from your career. I don’t want you to have to think about me.”

      “Seat or not, I’m always thinking of you and your well-being,” she reminded him, “And you’re not a distraction, Daniel Ricciardo. You’re my boyfriend. It’s been that way for four years, Daniel. Do you think I’m going to walk away now?”

      “It’ll be better for both of us,” he spoke as though he believed those words, that he’d made up his mind, “I’ll be able to focus solely on my career for now, and I think it’s what I need to get back in the zone.”

      “So, you’re saying this is my fault?”

      “I’m saying anything but that. This is my fault, y/n. That’s why I have to be the one to fix this, and I think this may be the way how,” he tried his best to convince her that it was for the better. She was unconvinced of this. Why would it be beneficial for either of them to break up?

      “And this is what you want?” she croaked out.

      “It’s what I need,” he stated bitterly, frowning at the way her face dropped at those words. He wished desperately to take back his words as tears began to line her eyes, “None of this is your fault, please.”

      “All right,” she nodded, sniffling, “I’ll see you around the track.”

      A sunny park in Monaco gave her no solace from their hectic lives as Formula 1 drivers.  A damp wooden bench, the sun in her eyes like a spotlight on an actress in a tragedy. She was alone. He was alone. There was no turning back from that point.

COTA; October 20, 2022

      “It’s tragic, yeah? What’s happening to Daniel?” Max questioned her almost innocently, not quite aware of what went down between the pair after the announcement that he was leaving McLaren for the next season, “How are you guys holding up.”

      “We broke up,” she mumbled absentmindedly in response to her teammate, “Just before the news dropped, actually.”

      “Oh,” Max’s eyes grew wide, “I’m sorry, I didn’t know.”

      “It’s all right. Not exactly an open thing for people, yeah?” she chuckled in an attempt to shrug it off. It stung, of course. Being reminded of the breakup between her and Daniel. They tried to make things work after, trying to remain civil, but she found that she simply could not manage it. She could not continue with the memory of what they used to share, replaced with the bitter reality of what they now were.

      “What are you both gossiping about now?” Christian chimed in at the sight of both his drivers seated at black metal chairs in the garage.

      “Daniel’s seat,” Max murmured, like a child who had been caught by a teacher speaking to his seatmate and disrupting a class.

      “It’s a pity, what’s happening to him, yeah?” Christian muttered at the thought, having heard the news.

      “Do you…know, if he has a seat yet?” she questioned sheepishly, wanting to know about Daniel’s future in Formula 1.

      “Not yet, actually,” the man shook his head, “A pity. Any team would be lucky to have a driver like Daniel.”

      “He’s got a fairly big fanbase as well. Pretty marketable, honestly,” she spoke strategically, “He’d be the golden boy of the team. People would love him on any team, honestly. Even if it wasn’t for a driver position.”

      She could see the gears turning in Christian’s head as she dropped those words. She gave a satisfied smile as she did, knowing there was a possibility of Daniel at least having a team to fall back on in Formula 1, if not a seat.

      “I’ll keep that in mind,” Christian nodded, ready to pull his phone out to make a few calls. Despite their breakup, she wanted nothing more than to look out for him. Even if it meant she’d have to see him a little bit more than she would have wanted.

      “Why’d you do that?” Max questioned, quirking a brow at y/n, “I can see what you were trying to do, but I thought you guys broke up.”

      “We did,” she nodded, “Doesn’t mean I don’t want him to be out of F1 permanently. He can use Red Bull as an opportunity to bounce back from all the damage McLaren did to his image as a driver.”

      “You’re really looking out for him, huh?” Max quirked a brow at his teammate’s response to his question, “You know, you guys were good together.”

      “I know, but it’s Daniel who said he needed the break,” y/n shrugged, “Didn’t need to add to everything else he’s going through at the time, yeah? If he says it’s what he needed, then who am I to deny him that?”

      “Yeah, but still, you guys were just…good for each other,” Max stated bluntly, having been there for the pair’s relationship through the years.

      “It was like we were living in a dream, you know?” she smiled wistfully at the thought of her and Daniel together. That dream faded, and they awoke to the reality they lived in. That she and Daniel were no longer an item.

Monaco; November 23, 2022

      Not too soon after the season ended, the announcement dropped on all of Red Bull’s social media accounts. Daniel was going to be the team’s third driver. She smiled as she scrolled to the post, smiling as she read through the positive comments, all welcoming Daniel back to Red Bull.

      She left a small comment of her own. It wasn’t much. Just a heart emoji. Nothing to fuss over, and nothing to speak much of. Just a small comment letting both the general public and, perhaps, Daniel know how she felt in regards to him joining the team as a third driver.

      After leaving the comment, she fought the urge to contact Daniel, congratulating him for ‘coming home’ to Red Bull. If only he could finally come home to her. To come back to her, to tell her things with them were okay, to make up with her. Still, she kept her distance. If he wanted to make up with her, he would have been the one to contact her. He would have been the one to tell her that he wanted their “break” to be over.

      Who was she kidding? It had been months since they had last actually connected. It was not a break, it was a break-up. She could no longer deny it to herself. She was content watching his career progress from the sidelines if it was what he wanted.

      But goddamn, did Red Bull’s colors look good on the man.

Bahrain; March 5, 2023

       She finished in second place for the first race of the season, right behind her teammate. It was a great juxtaposition to where she and Max were for the first race of the previous season. She crossed the checkered flag, smiling widely.

       “So, great results today,” he smiled at her, trailing her on her way back to the Red Bull garage for the race debrief. She hardly looked his way as she passed him by, “Really, I mean P2’s great. A nice double podium to start the season for you and Max.”

       He kept talking and she did her best to drone him out, not even acknowledging his words with so much as a nod.

       “I mean, it was amazing, seeing you in the car again. You both seemed very pleased with yourselves up on the podium. With good reason, of course. You both did amazing, but mostly you since, well, you’re the one I’m talking to. Have to do a bit of sucking up at least,” he chuckled, his face dropping as he received no response.

       Was it going to be like this for the rest of the season?

Saudi Arabia; March 20, 2023

      He sat in the garage, leaning over his seat anxiously as he watched the screens, constantly averting his gaze to y/n’s onboard cameras as the race progressed. He wore the happiest smile on his face when he watched her car overtake the green Aston Martin driven by Fernando Alonso himself.

      “That’s my girl,” he said quietly to himself, eyes never leaving the screen.

      He watched as she entered the pit lane for a pit stop, brown eyes shining under the bright lights as he was mesmerized by how she maneuvered the car, as though she and the machine shared a soul.

      “You guys talk it out yet?” Christian made sure his radio was muted as he turned to Daniel, aware of the complicated situation between the drivers.

      “Not really, no,” Daniel shook his head.

      “From the looks of it, you better do it soon. Lest you want to keep watching her from the sidelines like a lovestruck idiot,” the team principal offered him a pat on the back like a concerned father.

      “That obvious?” he questioned.

      “On both sides, honestly,” Christian admitted, “You know, she’s one of the reasons why you’ve got the third driver seat. Started talking to Marko and me about how any team would love you, in any capacity.”

      “Really?” he quirked an eyebrow at the older man’s words, unable to believe it. With how she had shrugged him off in Bahrain, he would have thought she wanted nothing to do with him. That she would have wanted to watch him walk away from the grid after that, though who was he kidding? He knew she wasn’t like that.

      “Yeah,” Christian nodded before turning back to the monitors and watching both his drivers closely as they made their way through the track.

      Daniel watched her car closely like a hawk, aware that a simple misstep on the track could have cost her the position she had in the race. Though, he knew she was not like that. She was in sync with the car that night, an absolute beast on the track. She dominated the track from start to finish, ending the race in P1.

      Anyone in the garage that day could have verified that Daniel Ricciardo cheered the loudest that night as she crossed the checkered flag. He was her biggest fan, and he was not ashamed of admitting it. Still, there was no way of approaching. She wouldn’t even look his way during the podium ceremony.

      She stood proudly on the top step of the podium, her hands behind her back as her country’s national anthem played. She looked down into the audience, a fair number of them cheering for her. In the wave of dark blue Red Bull kits, her eyes wandered over to him.

      When she crossed the checkered flag, she wished so desperately to be able to share the moment with Daniel. To have him kiss her in celebration of the win, the same way they used to. One of the brightest moments of her season, and she still wished she could have shared the moment with him.

      Even in one of the brightest moments of her career, she found herself looking for him. Still, she averted her gaze, unwilling to look his way, knowing she would have melted if she saw the way he looked up at her, that wide smile on his face.

      She celebrated happily with the team as they cheered for her, chugging down the bottle of champagne with her teammate as the crowd cheered continuously.

Monaco; May 28, 2023

      Monaco was a track beloved by many. Be it the sights while racing, the absolute luxury of the race, or the fact that Monaco was where a lot of the drivers lived. For drivers like y/n, it was a site of heavy nostalgia.

      Before the race, she, Max, and Daniel had filmed a promotion for the team while driving remote control boats around. She tried to pretend for the camera, but she could not hide the awkwardness of the situation. Sure, they had recorded quite a bit of content together already for the team, but Monaco was different.

      She and Daniel had shared many moments in Monaco, be it on the track or off the track. Like many other drivers, she had a flat in Monaco as well. She hated coming back to the flat for the season, it was littered with reminders of her relationship with Daniel. Like how she would stay over at his place, or when he would come over to hers because she didn’t want to feel alone in the flat.

      And if any of that wasn’t reason enough, Monaco had been the site for their breakup.

      She could no longer do that this season. She could not call him to come over, nor could she come over to his flat either.

      She was stuck in her head for Monaco. That much was evident the moment she stepped in the car. It was almost as though she could not get in proper synchronization with the car while she was stuck thinking of Daniel.  

      She crashed out early in Qualifying. She lost control of her car almost instantly as she drove it. Because of her inability to get Daniel out of her head, she had to start dead last at one of the toughest tracks to overtake at.

      To make things worse, it seemed as though nobody else had their heads screwed on straight for the Grand Prix. The first lap was complicated, with many drivers being caught up in one of the turns. She let out a frustrated groan, unwilling to accept the fact that she had to drive more laps around such a messy track.

      As if the race wasn’t bad enough, the rain began to pour, testing her patience more and more. She nearly crashed into a wall too then. She ended the race in P16.

      After dealing with the media, she practically stomped back to the garage, her mood as sour as the skies were gray.

      “Hey, you doing okay?” he questioned, quick to approach her in his little Red Bull raincoat.

      “No,” she shook her head. She hated the fact that she was so quick to admit it to him. And like word vomit, the emotions came pouring out, “I’m freezing cold, I had a terrible result with no points for the team, and I can’t get out of my head!”

      “C’mere,” he mumbled, pulling her close to him. She couldn’t protest, wanting nothing more than to feel his warm comfort at that moment.

      “Soon enough, all of the fanboys are going to start talking about how I’m too incapable of being a Red Bull driver, and if I keep this up, my career could be hanging off a thread.”

      “Shh,” he mumbled against her forehead, “Don’t think about that for now, yeah? You had a bad weekend, that’s it. You’re an amazing driver, and you just got unlucky yesterday, and today.”

      She hated it. She hated how his words made sense, and she hated how his attempt to comfort her was working. She hated how she found her way back into her arms just after a bad day. She hated how she relished in the feeling of his arms around her, and she hated how she wanted to come back to him after every bad day from that point on.

      She couldn’t. This was going to be a one-time thing, she swore to herself.

      Daniel, though. He held out hope that he could fix what they had. They weren’t broken yet.

Hungary; July 23, 2023

      “And how do you feel knowing that Daniel Ricciardo got into P13 in today’s race?” one of the interviewers questioned her.

      “It’s great,” she nodded, offering the interviewers a small smile, “The contact at the start of the race could have gone much worse for him, but I’m very happy things worked out the way they did, and I’m happy he’s racing again.”

      “Do you have any comments on the fact that Daniel Ricciardo might be out to get your seat? You’ve been doing poorly in Qualifying sessions,” the reporter bugged her with questions not quite related to the race. She didn’t mind the idea of it one bit. She was proud of Daniel. Nothing was going to shake that, not even the thought of people wanting to have him replace her.

      “If it happens, I’ll respect the team’s decision. For now, I don’t have questions on whether or not I’ll be keeping my seat. I have it now, and that’s all I’ll be worrying about,” she responded politely before the interview ended, walking back to the Red Bull garage.

      “Congratulations on your podium,” a familiar voice greeted her as she entered the garage. She looked up into his honey-brown eyes, offering a sincere smile. She could not help herself. She was happy with her performance on the track, with her podium, and she was happy that Daniel did well in the car.

      “Thanks,” she nodded as he held her arms open to her. She stared at him for a moment before giving in and wrapping him up in a hug. It was a familiar feeling, like a dream rediscovered, “Congratulations too, on your Alpha Tauri seat.” 

      “Do you think that maybe, we could talk?” he offered her a bashful expression, “I mean, you’d probably want to cool down a bit after a hot race like that one, but also, I do want to finally be able to talk to you.”

      “Daniel, there’s nothing to talk about—”

      “But there is. You and I both know it,” he insisted, “I’m sorry for what I did last year, I was in a terrible terrible place, but following you around for a bit with Red Bull I only missed you more.”

      “Daniel—”

      “I know, you’re going to say that the moment for this conversation’s long passed, but y/n, please, I want to give us a chance,” he pleaded with her, taking her hands in his, “I know what I threw away now, and it wasn’t right of me to toss you aside like that, and I’m sorry. I am so sorry. I just can’t bear having to be so close to you knowing we aren’t together anymore.”

      “But, Daniel, isn’t it worse now? My seat is your end goal, things are only going to be worse for us this way,” it was the bitter reality, the fact that, as long as they were in Formula 1, they would always be each other’s competition. There was a chance either of them could lose their seat. With how complicated things were the first time around, it was a terrifying thought to consider.

      “Fuck the seat,” he scoffed, “I spent months without the seat, and I realized not having a seat didn’t hurt as bad as not having you. Everything related to the track and racing, we can keep outside our relationship. We can live our personal lives separate from our professional lives. No gray area, just black and white.”

      “We can’t do that. Racing is a big part of our lives.”

      “Well, if your concern was really with the seat, you wouldn’t have put a good word in for me at Red Bull, no?” he pleaded, “Whatever position I’m in now, I owe it all to you, y/n. Please, what are you so afraid of?”

      She could see he was growing desperate. The less she said, the more anxious he grew. His fingers tapped against the palms of her hands. She had hope for them. The way he spoke to her, was nothing but sincere. This was her Daniel speaking. The love of her life.

      “I’m afraid of getting hurt again,” she admitted tearfully, “I’m afraid that the moment things become unsure for us again, you’ll leave me.”

      “Oh, babe,” he muttered, wrapping her up in a tight hug, “I won’t hurt you. Whatever happens, we’ll face it together this time, yeah?”

      “You promise?”

      “I promise.”

      And though nearly a year had passed since the breakup, she still found herself hoping to be with him. And with the end of a chapter, they found a new chapter to begin.

a/n: this reminds me a lot of the chain i’m sorry 😭

F1 TAGS: @errrrrat​​​​ / @ricsaigaslec​​​​ / @veronicapaula​​​​ / @buendiabebeta​​​​ / @abditory-77​​ / @navia3000​​​ (taglist open)

DR3 TAGS: @a-distantdreamer​​​​ (taglist open)

[psychedelic-ink]

𝐃𝐎𝐍'𝐓 𝐋𝐄𝐓 𝐌𝐄 𝐃𝐑𝐈𝐕𝐄 𝐇𝐎𝐌𝐄

pairing: stripper!jack daniels x f!reader

genre: stripper AU, explicit, minors dni

word count: 6.5k

series summary: frustrated by your everyday life, you seek solace at a male strip club. It's your first time and you're instantly mesmerized by the one that calls himself "Whiskey".

chapter summary: you bump into "whiskey" at the farmer's market and learn more about him.

warnings: awkward moments, fluff, mutual pining, sexual tension, bondage via jack's belt, piv, oral (female receiving), praise kink, fingering, dirty talking, brief mention of jack being widowed, angst & arguing at the end

a/n: sadly no stripping in this one folks but I promise we're gonna get some more (and our happy ending) in part three!

part two of i can feel your heartbeat

dividers by @firefly-graphics 💜

You don’t visit the farmer’s market as often as you used to but when you do, man, do you love it. 

It’s almost therapeutic. You love the gentle morning sun warming your skin, you love the scent of fresh produce wafting through the air. You enjoy looking at the colorful display of flowers. While you walk, you look up into the sky, the clouds looking fluffier than ever. A soft wind blows and ruffles the leaves of the trees, the sound of it strong enough to make you believe you’re in another, more exciting world. 

The crowd mimics the motion of waves in the sea. You follow the current, not having a particular stand in mind. The only thing on your list is buying some fresh fruit; some juicy peaches, and maybe some strawberries. 

Lost in your thoughts, you don't notice a man stepping into your path until it's too late.

With an unexpected jolt, you collide into him, your momentum abruptly halting. Startled, you blink and take a step back, a mix of embarrassment and surprise washing over you. 

It’s then that you notice an item slipping from his bag, plummeting toward the ground.

In that split second, your senses heighten, and you catch a whiff of familiar leather and a trace of a perfume that sparks a distant memory. But you can't dwell on it for long as your gaze fixates on what has fallen—a meticulously hand-carved wooden horse.

The delicate figurine lies there, its intricate details captivating your attention. The sunlight dances upon its smooth surface, casting intricate shadows that accentuate the craftsmanship. It is a thing of beauty, captivating in its simplicity and elegance.

You kneel down, carefully picking up the wooden horse. Its weight in your hand feels grounding. Your fingertips trace the curves and contours, marveling at the artistry that brings it to life.

Distracted by the wooden horse, you momentarily forget about the man with whom you collided. But as you rise to your feet, you finally take notice of him, standing there with a surprised expression on his face. Recognition flickers in his eyes, and a smile slowly curves his lips; meanwhile, you’re absolutely shocked. Your mouth falls open and your eyes go wide at the sight of a cowboy hat you’ve grown accustomed to seeing almost every night. 

“Whiskey?” you say in a hushed, yet loud, whisper. “W-What are you—” 

His smile falters at the sound of his stage name, it seems to you that he’s forgotten that you don’t actually know his birth-given name. He crowds your space, the scent of pine filling the air, unmistakable and comforting. When you part your lips the second time, it’s to apologize, but before you can, he claps a hand over your mouth and gently pushes you towards the back of one of the market stalls. Your heart races, his grip firm yet strangely gentle. 

The rough surface of wood meets your back. You feel the subtle grooves and indentations beneath your palms and a shiver runs down your spine as his intense stare penetrates your defenses. He breathes heavily through his nostrils, lips a thin line.

“It’s Jack,” he grunts, almost begrudgingly. “My name’s Jack.” 

“Jack,” you say, enjoying the way his name rolls off of your tongue. Then your brows furrow with realization. “Wait, is that why you call yourself Whiskey? Like, Jack, as in Jack Daniels?” 

He gives you a pained expression, the corner of his lips lifting, “Guess my last name.” 

“Nooooo,” you let out a hushed gasp. “Your last name is Daniels?” 

“I told you my real name wasn’t any less embarrassin’.” 

You tut with a grin, “You poor thing.” 

He inches closer, leg almost between your thighs but not quite. Jack always makes his presence known. He is used to being center stage, garnering all the attention and whisking anyone away from their thoughts. His very being overwhelming and affective. You stiffen as awareness starts creeping in— the large hand cupping the column of your neck, his body imposing as it blankets yours, the thick wood behind your back. In the distance, you still hear the clamoring of people. Your breath catches in your throat, he’s only an inch away. 

Your fingers twitch and you remember the wooden horse he’d dropped. 

“Um, I think this is yours,” you blurt out, handing him the carving. He’s briefly startled but then pulls away, taking it from you. “It’s lovely by the way. Where’d you get it?” 

“I. . . uh. . . I made it,” he mutters, tilting his head forward. Hiding from you. 

“You made it?” 

He nods and steps away from you. 

“Is there anything you can’t do?” you tease, pushing yourself away from the market wall. You follow him into the crowd. “You’re truly a man of many talents. . . Jack.” 

“Don’t make me regret tellin’ you my name.” 

“I won’t,” you answer with a hint of mischief. You eye the bags he’s holding. “Are all of those wood carvings?” 

“Yea,” he says. “I bring them for my mother-in-law, she sells them along with other stuff.” 

“You—” your mouth dries and you swallow around the know forming rapidly in your throat.  “Wait, you told me you were single.” 

“Widowed.” 

He says it in a way that doesn’t allow for any follow-up questions. His voice is curt, nonchalant. Tearing your gaze away from the crowd, you stare at him, your heart squeezing in your chest. You want to hold him, whether it's a hug or just a delicate brush of your fingers. You want him to know that you're here for him.

But you just can’t. 

If you two hadn’t bumped into each other, he wouldn’t have ever told you. This was a truth that was spoken due to circumstance, not something he wanted to admit and that makes you feel incredibly guilty. “I’m sorry,” is the only thing you’re able to say. 

You might be imagining it, but you think he starts walking closer to you. His hand brushes your waist and pulls you close—right then you realize you were about to crash into some poor unsuspecting woman with enough goods to feed an army. 

He snorts, “You really out to be more careful, sweetheart.” 

“Sorry,” you mumble, distracted by the hand cupping your side. The woman had already disappeared into the crowd but he’s still holding you close. Heat drips down your spine. 

“What’s your favorite animal?” 

The question takes you by surprise but you indulge him with an answer, “Foxes.” 

“Hmm,” he looks down at his bag. “Darn, I don’t think I made a fox.” 

“It’s okay, don’t worry about it,” a nervous chuckle bubbles from your lips. He makes a sound and the two of you continue walking through the crowd. When you reach almost the end of the stalls, he stops you. 

“Wait here,” he says. “I’ll drop these off and we can look around together.” 

“O-Oh you don’t have to—” 

“If today is any indication you can’t function properly without me, sunshine,” he grins. “You’ll probably headbutt a fruit stand or somethin’.” 

You stand there, your heart pounding in your chest as he leaves you. Your eyes trace his figure until he stops beside a middle-aged, elegant-looking blond woman at a nearby stand. They engage in conversation, their voices carrying faintly to your ears.

They seem comfortable in each other's presence, their conversation carrying a lightness that betrays a shared history. Her smile lights up her face, and for a moment, her eyes meet yours. You feel a jolt of nervousness, your instinct urging you to avert your gaze, fearing that you may be intruding upon a private moment.

You don’t want to pry, but you would be damned if you said you weren’t hungry for more information. . . .among other things. 

Soon Jack returns, the bags he carried earlier now gone. His presence draws you back to the present, grounding you in the here and now. “You ready to go?” he asks.

“Sure.” 

When your eyes find the woman’s once more, she waves at the both of you. Jack tilts his hat as he places his hand protectively over the small of your back, heat seeping through the fabric of your shirt and into your skin. You stumble for a moment before waving back. 

You’re not sure how to react to any of this. Seeing Jack outside of the strip club feels forbidden, in a way. Like a certain spell has been broken. Before you knew his name it was easy to pretend your growing emotions were nothing other than you enoying the attention he was giving you. But now you’re in the real world. He has his hand on your back unprompted and is willing to walk around with you at the farmer’s market. In the club, a curtain of illusion looms most of the time. It’s another world. A separate little nook where you can disappear into and be pampered in.

That spell is broken now. 

He’s a real person. Your emotions are real. Everything is. 

And that terrifies you. 

With the heel of his palm pressed firmly against the steering wheel, Jack parks in your driveway. Your eyes drop to his lap where his legs are spread, an enticing view by any means. His belt buckle shines under the street light coming through the windshield. The soft yellow softens the edges of his face, giving him an almost somber look. 

He kills the engine, you wait for him to speak but he doesn’t say anything. 

“Thank you for dropping me off,” you say, breaking the silence. You unwillingly grip the latch of the door. “So,” you add. 

“So,” he clears his throat, and drags a thumb down the bridge of his nose. “I’ll see you around darlin’. Today was nice.” 

“Yeah. It was.” 

The two of you had ended up spending time together until the sun had set. You even had dinner together which was a pleasant surprise. It wasn’t awkward then, so you have no idea why you feel so unnerved right now. It’s as if your entire vocabulary had dropped from your head. 

You swallow, thinking of your next words very carefully, “Would you. . . like to come in? I have a bottle of wine.” 

Time seems to slow down, every sound around you amplified. The cacophony of crickets fills the night air, a gentle breeze rustles the leaves of nearby trees. You hold your breath as the car emits a soft creak. The muscle in his jaw twitches. He seems hesitant, his eyes glazed as if looking at the horizon. You shouldn’t have asked. Just because he was friendly doesn’t mean he wants to date, or have a relationship. And from what you’ve learned today, there is a very high chance that Jack wouldn’t be interested in any form of intimacy. 

“Sure,” he finally says, his voice rough. “Lead the way, sugar.” 

Despite the hot summer air, your skin is ice cold. He follows you inside, his body close yet painfully far at the same time. The skin at the base of your spine tingles. You have a feeling that he wants to wrap his arms around you but it remains only a thought. Briefly you imagine the phantom feel of his limbs coiling around you, the warmth you would feel. 

You quickly unlock the door and invite him inside. You’re not sure what to do now that he’s in your apartment. Hands in his pockets, he gives his surroundings a quick once-over. 

“Cozy,” he says. 

“Thanks,” you mumble, not sure if that was a compliment or not. “So, wine?” without waiting for an answer you head to the kitchen. Jack follows. You're desperately racking your brain for conversation topics that won't be awkward, but your mind seems determined to make your life miserable by providing no ideas.

“Today was fun,” you say, reaching for the glasses. He makes a sound of approval and your gut simmers with something unpleasant. You grab the bottle of wine from the fridge and the cork from the drawer. With a frown, you struggle with pulling out the cork. “I hope. . .” you pull at it again. “you had fun. . .” you let out a loud grunt, too distracted to realize he’s rounding the small island. “. . . too—shit!” 

Jack is right behind you when the cork finally comes loose and sends your arm flying back. 

Your elbow slams loudly against something hard and pointy, the pain that blossoms from skin to bone immediate. Jack lets out a shout and when you turn you see him hunched over, holding his chin. 

Oh god, you’re a moron. 

“What were you doing behind me!?” you chide, your voice shrill. 

“I should be the one fuckin’ yellin’,” he hisses, each word bouncing against the back of his teeth. He breathes heavily through his nose and slowly stands back up. He moves his jaw as if he’s testing if it’s broken. “I was gonna offer help. It didn’t look like you were gettin’ anywhere with the bottle.”

Your chest heaves, heart pounding maniacally beneath the cage, “I’m so so so sorry,” you say quickly. “I—I wasn’t paying attention. Do you need anything? Should I get the first aid kit?” 

He’s still moving his jaw when his eyes meet yours. You hear the faint clicking of bone, the sound ominous to your ears. “Sorry,” you whisper again, feeling like a parrot. 

Jack’s gaze grows softer the longer he stares at you. Momentarily his eyes flutter closed. He takes a deep breath and opens them back up again. The air around you is still, the only sound not drowned by the drum of your heart is the faint traffic coming from outside. With long strides, he’s at you in an instant, his body feeling larger than life itself. His fingers gingerly brush your cheek and you swear you feel electricity crackling across the skin. 

“I should be the one apologizin’. It’s my fault for sneaking up on you like that,” he sighs, turning his hand, he drags his knuckles down your face. You’re reminded of the first time he danced for you, how he wrapped his hands around your neck. “I didn’t mean to shut down like that. Of course, I had fun today. I’m glad we ran into each other.” 

In order to avoid appearing desperate and insecure, you sink your teeth into the tip of your tongue, consciously refraining from uttering the question: "Really?"

“That’s good,” you say instead, hating how unsure you sound. He definitely thinks that you don’t believe him. “For a while there I felt bad. I didn’t want to intrude.” 

“Well, you didn’t.” 

“Okay.” 

His touch feels good on your skin. You don’t ever want him to leave, at least, not for tonight. It’s odd really, you’ve been much closer than this before but this feels more intimate, more nerve-wracking. His head tilts towards the bottle, the corner’s of his mouth curling up.  

“Now pour us what’s left in the bottle.” 

You’re grinning now, a sound between a chuckle and a snort dropping from your lips, “Okay.” 

Jack picks up the glasses of wine as you lead him to the living room. You can definitely sense an energy shift between you two. You don’t need to force yourself to fill the silence anymore. Everything is more natural, just like it was before. 

“I’m just glad you didn’t get my nose,” he says as he takes a seat on the couch. “It would’ve been bad for business.” 

“Oh, I don’t know about that,” you roll your tongue. “People love a rugged handsome man with a bit of blood.” 

As soon as you sit, his arm comes up to lay above the backrest. His fingers draw patterns across your skin; stars, hearts, circles. Your muscles tighten, nipples left tingling at his touch. You breathe out slowly. Jack shuffles closer and spreads his legs, his knee digging into the meat of your thigh. His thumb smooths over the stem of the wine glass. You have his full focus, gaze brimming with intrigue. 

“Is that what you like?” Every word is said tantalizingly slow, you shudder. “A bit of blood.” 

Not the blood, you want to say, but the thought of someone stepping in to be a shield for me. 

The words don’t come however and you just stare, your cheeks warm as he continues to toy with the small hairs scattered across the back of your neck. You’re actually glad you managed not to answer. You’re not sure if he’d want to stay after hearing it. There’s just something so intoxicating about another person caring enough to want to protect you, no matter what happens. And your lizard brain just thinks it’s hot. You’re aware it’s not the strangest thing but still, you don’t think it’s the best course of action to admit this to your stripper. 

Well, not your stripper. He doesn’t belong to anyone but you digress. 

“Tell me whatcha thinkin’ pretty girl,” he spreads his fingers around your nape, gently squeezing the side. You practically purr at the pressure. “You should know by now that I’m good at keepin’ secrets.” 

The reminder brings a rush of warmth between your legs. You squirm and bring the glass of wine to your lips, taking two large gulps. “I don’t know what I’m thinking,” you answer, swallowing at the same time. “Besides you already know what the people want, don’t pretend that you don’t.” 

“I do,” he hums. “But right now I’m more interested in what you want, sugar.” 

“You. . .” you furrow your brows. “What?” 

Placing the wine glass on the coffee table, he leans closer. His lips are tinted from the wine. “What do you want, darlin’?” he pressed his palm flat on your thigh. “Because to me, it seems like you have an itch you just can’t seem to scratch.” 

Holy freaking hell. 

You’re a goner— what kind of steamy cowboy romance book did this man climb out of? 

“What about you?” 

Your question startles him and his fingers twitch around your thigh, “What do you mean ‘what about me’?” 

“Well,” you shrug. “What do you want?” 

You’re giving yourself mental pats on the back for keeping your voice leveled. The fabric of your underwear is damp with arousal, your clit throbbing and aching for his fingers. There’s a storm raging inside you. A storm that you’re glad he’s not able to witness. You keep your breathing even. Nice and slow. His hand starts sliding up your leg, stopping when he reaches the crease between your legs. He smiles. 

“I want to fuck you, darlin'.” 

You hold your breath, your pussy bottoming out at his deep southern drawl. He leans in, lips brushing your ear before gently nipping the hard shell. Electricity spikes up your spine, a strangled moan parting your lips. 

“I want to fuck you slow,” he continues on, tongue wet and warm over your skin. “Then I want to fuck you hard. I want to look in your eyes as you come for me again, sunshine.” without warning Jack cups your sex, fingers digging into your clothed folds. Your head snaps up, every bone going rigid in your body. “Want to feel that pretty pussy chokin’ my cock.” 

You’re shaking and your ears are left ringing. It’s just one touch. One touch and your entire body is locked up, aching, begging. Your jaw hurts from how hard you’re clenching your teeth. He blows a puff of air, goosebumps rising over your skin. He kisses your neck, such a gentle, fleeting feeling. All blood gathers under his lips, pounding. You swallow. 

“Your turn,” he rasps, circling your clit with two fingers. “What do you want, gorgeous?” 

“I—I—” you look down to where his hand is, the sight knocking the air from your lungs. He’s actually touching you, fingers deep between your legs. Sweat beads at your temple. “I want that too.” 

“Hm?” he’s amused, you can tell. A tone you’d grown accustomed to that you both hate and adore. You refuse to look at him. “You like the sound of that, pretty girl? Me fucking this neglected pussy? Has a man ever made you come before, sunshine?” 

You don’t want to answer but you forget that silence is an answer on its own. “What is this a questionnaire?” His eyes glimmer under the dimmed light, how can he look so delighted while taking you apart you’ll never know. 

“I’m takin’ that as a no,” he tuts and sticks his bottom lip out. “Poor thing.” 

You might not admit it, but that doesn’t make him any less right. You haven’t really been lucky when it came to previous sexual endeavors. None of them really made you that comfortable to just let go. There were some that came really close, and some felt good despite you not finishing—some were just downright bad at it— That’s why his dance had surprised you. He worked you up so thoroughly and that added with the thought that you’d never see him again bred the perfect ground for you to just relax. 

You had no idea the end result would be him in your apartment, telling you how badly he wanted to fuck you. If this is a dream you never want to wake up from it. 

His hands slide to your hip, holding you tight as he leans over. You gasp when you feel his lips, so soft, so tender. His tongue swipes over your bottom lip hungrily, not asking but demanding to be let inside. You part your lips with a feverish groan and he slips inside. You seize him by the collar, pulling him closer, wanting more of him. Your head spins as he tilts his head, shoving more of him inside you, your tongue eagerly backing down so he takes full control. He squeezes the breath out of you, swallowing your tender moans of his name. 

Jack’s hand tenderly cups your cheek as he pulls away, a string of saliva still connecting you two together. You breathe heavily, your lips stinging in the best way. Your eyes flit over his face. His lips kiss swollen, chocolate eyes a shade darker. With a thumb, he tugs down your bottom lip and swallows. 

“Take me to your bedroom.” 

“I’ve never seen you take off your clothes so fast before.” 

He snorts, “Shut up. I ain’t on the clock. You think that’s how I undress all the time? I would get nothin’ else done.” 

Jack unbuckles his belt while you take in the sight of his bare torso. A shudder crawls up your spine at the sound of the metal buckle coming loose. He has a smooth chest, which you already knew but still, to have it all to yourself makes your entire mouth water. 

Your eyes drop when he rips the belt away with one smooth motion. Anticipation stirs in your chest, causing your eyebrows to raise. Before you can avert your eyes, he catches your gaze, his trademark grin tugging at his mouth. Belt still in hand, he comes closer. With a gentle touch, Jack's hands grasp the fabric of your shirt. Carefully, he pulls upward, the fabric gradually lifts, revealing the tender skin beneath. You instinctively raise your arms for him and he slids it completely off, leaving you in nothing else but your bra. 

He dips down, kissing the soft swell of your breasts, one by one, “Can’t do anythin’ without me,” he says with no conviction. His lips move over your skin. “My helpless sweetheart.” 

You barely hear the second part of his sentence, he had uttered the words softly, just above a whisper. The words resonate in you, short-circuiting your brain and shutting out unrelated thoughts. You like this. You like him taking care of you, guiding you. His tone holds no pity, only care. 

His thumb follows the lace of your bra, tongue tasting the salt of your skin. You whine as your knees weeken, his mouth has no right feeling this good. He cups them from underneath and slowly pushes the satin fabric up, calloused palm grazing your peaked nipples. He swirls his tongue around the areola then closes his lips around the hardened flesh. Your back arches, filling his mouth with more of you. He groans as he opens his mouth wider, teeth softly caressing the skin. 

“Jaack,” you breathe out as you shift from one leg to the other. Your panties stick uncomfortably to your core. You palm him through his jeans, feeling the weight of him. He sucks your nipple harder, pinching the other one. You want to taste him. “Let me,” you say, already going down. 

Much to your surprise, he stills your movements. “No,” he groans. “Let me take care of you first.” 

He pushes your arms behind you, locking your wrists together with one hand. Your breath stills when you feel the leather of his belt circling your wrists. “Can I?” he asks, breath fanning your neck. 

Your stomach flips and not trusting yourself to remain upright, you brace yourself by dropping your forehead to his shoulder. Your entire body is winded. You place a small, chaste kiss over his clavicle, his chest raises with a deep inhale.  

“Just promise this isn’t where you tie me up and steal my watch,” you joke, immediately regretting it when you look up to see his brows drawn together, a small snarl tracing his lips. “Sorry, that was in bad taste.” 

“We don’t have to,” he says, his grip around your hands loosening. “And if we do we can stop whenever. I just. . .” he swallows thickly. Anticipation burrows into your skin. “I like the idea of you trustin’ me to make you feel good.” 

“I do trust you,” you answer quickly. “And I want to. I just wasn’t aware how much I wanted it which is why I made that dumb joke.” 

“I’m sure you can make it up to me,” he answers with a crooked grin. Suddenly, he tightens the belt around you and you let out a quick gasp, his lips are on your instantly, teeth nipping at your chin. “Does this feel okay?” he asks, slightly tugging on the leather. 

It’s funny how such a simple thing can alter one’s mindset. You’re almost subdued, in a way, completely at his mercy. However, you don’t feel helpless either. His heavy palms move up and down your arms, you quiver as you drip for him, wetness gathering between your folds.  You’re breathing heavily, heart bellowing in your chest, loud and strong. His skin against yours feels warmer somehow. 

“Yeah,” you answer. “Feels more than okay.” 

You hear the smile in his voice, “Well a’right then,” he helps you towards the bed, you drop head first into the pillows, hands securely at your back. His lips brush the tender skin between your shoulder blades. “Gonna taste this sweet pussy now, sunshine. I’ve been eager for dessert.” 

“God, the mouth on you,” you swallow, feeling his breath ghosting your wet core. “You’re gonna be the death of me.” 

“Not yet,” he sighs, kissing right where the curve of your ass begins. “First I gotta make you come.” 

You’re in the midst of thinking of a quip to answer with when you feel it. The wet, warmth of his tongue gliding up between your folds. Your body coils and unwinds almost simultaneously. He moves his jaw, pushing his tongue deeper. He traces your entrance with a pointed tip, licking himself deeper. The sound he makes are sinful—loud in the silence of the room. 

Your wrists strain against the restraint, you push back wanting more of him. He groans into you, the reverberations seeping into your cunt. You’re withering helplessly, heat coiling tight in your stomach as your insides flutter and clench around nothing. Jack parts you with two fingers, his teeth like daggers against the sensitive flesh. With a loud cry, you feel your slick dripping out of you, making a mess of his face. 

“That’s my girl,” he rasps, giving you another fat stroke of his tongue. His hand comes up to your asscheek, kneading the flesh playfully. You relax at the touch and drool over the pillows. It’s too much, yet not nearly enough. He circles his tongue around your throbbing clit and sucks it between his lips, you jolt at the pleasure and wiggle helplessly. 

He gives you a gentle, yet firm, smack on the ass. A whimper echoes in your throat, your eyes shutting closed as your nails bite into your sweaty palms. “Settle,” he warns, voice deep and rich like molasses. “Use your words when you want something darlin’. Or else you ain’t getting it.” 

You make a sound between a choke and a moan, despite your non-answer answer, he seems to understand. 

“You want my fingers, sweetheart?” 

You nod, another moan slipping from your lips. 

He presses his lips over the heated skin and you keen at the soft touch of his mouth. “Can’t wait to be filled, hm?” he grins “You think you’re wet enough to take two, darlin’?” 

The tips of his fingers press against your entrance, his touch nothing but a tease. “Yeah,” you answer, voice hoarse. He kisses your core before pushing two fingers in, they slide in easily, the sound of how et you are making you shudder. 

“That’s my good girl,” he praises. “Fuckin’ soaked for her cowboy.” 

He moves his fingers in and out of your slickened depths, coating them. His tongue returns to your cunt, your head left spinning as his talented tongue flicks, licks, and swirls. He moves his fingers in time with his tongue, plunging deeper into your sopping core. 

Jack’s free hand roams your body, cupping your breasts as the intensity of his movements increases. His thumb brushes your hard nipple as he pulls you closer to his mouth, greedy to take more of you. Sparks of pleasure zig-zag through your body and you gasp as pleasure heaves through you.

Your hips buck as he moves his fingers faster, slipping them in then out with a maddening rhythm. His tongue slides faster and harder against your clit and you arch your back. You feel yourself clenching around his fingers, pleasure building and building until you’re a trembling mass panting for release. 

Jack’s fingers fill you up to the brim, your inner walls quivering and contracting around them, eager for more. He pinches your nipples, sending shivers up your spine. You gasp and cry out as you build up towards your peak, trembling against him. 

Finally, with one final thrust of his fingers and swipe of his tongue, you let out a loud moan as your orgasm rocks your entire body. Your walls weakly gripping his fingers as the pleasure spreads through your body, leaving you a boneless, exhausted mess. 

He pulls his fingers from you and kisses your neck tenderly. “Oh darlin’,” his deep voice whispers into your ear before trailing kisses down your jaw. “Look at you, fuckin’ gorgeous.”

His cock lays heavy above your ass, smearing precum across your skin. You whimper, rolling your hips back, showing him what you need. His breath hitches. He meets your movements, slowly, grinding onto you. 

“You want my cock?” 

“Y-Yes, please,” your eyes roll as he teases you with the fat tip of his lenght. But before he fills you, a longing stirs in your chest. “Wait,” you gasp and he still in an instant, without looking at him you know his eyes are painted with worry. “I want to see you.” 

“See me?” he repeats slowly, as if the words are foreign to his tongue. 

“Please,” you add. “I want to touch you too.” 

Swiftly, he unties you and throws the belt to the floor. Your arms drop loosely to your sides, a pleasant ache stirring in your muscles. Jack turns you side ways, your thighs offering him a velvet entrance to your tight heat. He caresses your back, his touch soothing. When your gaze meet his, there’s a slightly hesitation in them. Almost like he’s afraid of something. 

“Is this alright?” he asks and you nod, reaching out to him. He sighs as your arms weakly wrap themselves around his neck, pulling him in for a deep kiss. 

While your tongues intertwine, he enters you. Just like he promised, he does it slowly, every ridge felt by you. You tear away from him with a gasp, you’re overwhelmed by the size of him, stretching your sensitive cunt perfectly. When he’s buried himself in your completey, he pulls out in an equally slow manner. Your jaw drops wide, your walls trembling at the slow guide. The inside of your thighs shake. With only the tip inside, he pushes forward, slowly. Your nails bite into his back, tension coiling in your stomach as he presses his lips against yours once more. 

“So warm,” he groans, eyes staring deep into yours. “Fuckin’ pussy was made for me.” 

“Yes,” you cry out, holding him closer. “Made for you, Jack. Made for your cock.” 

His hips stutter and your eyes go wide, a gutteral moan tainting your lips. “Please,” you beg. “Please, please, please—” 

“Please. . . what, darlin’?” his lips brush your teary eyelids. 

“Fuck me,” you whisper. “I-It’s too much, please just fuck me. Stop teasing.” 

“Alright, sugar. I won’t.” 

There’s a small window of clarity where the softness of his voice catches you off guard, but that feeling is quickly replaced by the overwhelming strike of pleasure hitting your spine. His demeanour completely changes. Slow and sensual grind of his hips becoming fast and merciless, he snaps into you, length gliding against a spot you can barely reach with your fingers. He breathes into your neck. Your mind is in a complete haze, the four walls around you dssapearing from existence. 

You yelp when he flips you over to your back, spreading your trembling legs wide, his thumb falls on your clit and he begins to draw fast, precise circles around the bundle of nerves. You scream his name, pulsing around him as he fucks you deeper, harder until you’re coming undone around him once again. 

You squeeze him tight before gushing around him, your back arching almost painfully with his continued thrusts. Pleasure rolls over your body in the form of tidal waves, and just as you’re coming down from your high, he pulls out, spilling over your stomach. 

You look at him blearily, eyes barely able to focus on the heavy way his chest moves. He breathes heavily, the muscles that surround his stomach tense. Before you can utter a word, Jack dips down, claiming your lips in a heady kiss that you can only describe as a finality. 

Jack parts away and hops off of the bed. 

Your eyes widen, confusion swirling in them. Why is he getting dressed? You’re still within a heavy haze of pleasure, your surroundings feeling disoriented and dreamlike. With a weak hand, you reach towards him, hoping the action will convey to him not to go. 

Jack already has one leg shoved into his pants when he sees you. Helpless. Needy. Your heart suddenly feels too big for your chest, tears build in your eyes. He hasn’t said anything yet, but you know. You just do. 

He’s quick to clamber over to you, dropping to his knees and taking your hand into his own before dragging damp lips over your knuckles. Your chest heaves. You don’t want him to go. 

“I’m sorry,” he says, voice choked. “I can’t stay.” 

“Why?” 

He ignores your question, “I don’t think it’s a good idea for you to stop by the club either, darlin’.” 

“Don’t call me that,” you snap. He stiffens at your tongue, shoulders raising. He still has your hand enclosed in his. Your eyes sting. “I thought. . . I thought you liked me. . .” 

You hate the way your voice cracks. You hate seeing the remorse in his eyes. You hate how tortured he looks, as if you’re the one hurting him. 

“This ain’t gonna work out. Whatever it is.” 

“Then why even come here? Why even. . .” you viciously pull your hand back, startling him. He stands as you straighten,  leaning against the bed rest. You reek of sweat and sex. Marks of him, all of it, on you, on the bed, on the pillows. You cross your arms over your chest, refusing to pull up a blanket over your naked body. Refusing to be ashamed. 

It doesn’t matter. Embarrassment sears your skin. 

He doesn’t answer and you realize. Your heart lurches, your stomach dropping and churning uncomfortably. You can’t breathe—fuck, you can’t breathe. 

“This was a goodbye,” you say coldly, the next words you whisper, broken. “That’s why you were distracted in the kitchen. You knew this was going to be a one-time thing.” 

Anger flashes in his eyes, surprising you, “I thought somewhere along the way you would’ve figured that out too,” he snarls. “Wans’t it obvious from the start this couldn’t go anywhere?” 

“It wasn’t obvious to me!” your hands drop from your chest and you’re crawling off the bed to meet him halfway. Just as you’re stepping down, your knees gave way beneath you, still weak. Jack takes a step forward and catches you, one arm securely wrapped around your torso. You push him away. “Fuck you—stop being nice to me!” 

“Fuck me?” he repeats, bewildered. “Fuck you! I was just tryin’ to help.” 

“Oh please, you were just helping yourself,” you hiss between gritted teeth. “Spare me any favors!” 

Silence falls, the air still crackling with tension. You breathe heavily. Both your gazes remain locked on one another, both of you refusing to step down. You feel like a wounded animal, trying to bite back after being kicked. 

“Just because someone does the bare minimum,” he says slowly, pulling up his pants. “Don’t mean their kind. I’m not the type of person you think I am, I’m just savin’ you the trouble of figuring it out yourself.” 

He shakes his head, tormented. 

“I’m sorry whoever it was who hurt you. I’m sorry they made you believe that every person is a shithead that’ll treat you like crap—but that just ain’t true. They are better people out there,” he sighs and pulls his shirt over his head. “I hate the way you look at me.” 

“I look at you the same way I look at everyone else.” 

“No, you don’t,” he smiles and all oxygen leaves your lungs. It’s a broken smile, the corners of his lips twitch. “You look at me like I’m more than I am. I can’t handle it. Not again.” 

Not again. 

Not again. 

Not again. 

Not again. 

What does that mean? What happened? What’s again? 

The face of the elderly blond woman you barely saw flashes before your eyes. His mother-in-law. You shrink under his gaze, guilt, and regret coursing through your veins. You didn’t ask him how she died. He didn’t let you as and you figured he’d tell you when the time was right. 

Now it looks like such a time won’t ever come. 

“I’m sorry,” he says for how many times you lost count. His voice cracks. “This is the best for you, I promise, sunshine.” 

He leaves and you break. 

The way he said sunshine. . . it echoes in the loud emptiness of your bedroom.