#will they let Daniel drop the accent

[scuderiahoney]

Sweet Like Grenadine

Daniel Ricciardo x Reader

Masterlist

Summary: You love weddings. However, you don’t love being stuck by yourself at a wedding, a plus one to a boyfriend who’s too busy for you. Enter Daniel Ricciardo, your knight in shining armor.

Word Count: 5.6k

a/n: thought of this concept and couldn’t get Danny out of my head. He’s soooo guy you flirt with at a wedding and will probably never see again coded

Warnings: alcohol/intoxication, mild sexual content (heavy makeout? idrk how to tag this stuff), one (1) shitty boyfriend

The table in front of you is draped with a heavy white tablecloth. At the center is a large bouquet of flowers, the number 19 stuck haphazardly in the middle of it. Not last, but certainly low on the list. You can’t blame them- you barely know the bride and groom.

You’re only here because your boyfriend is a groomsman. A plus one. You love weddings, so of course you’d agreed, but you hadn’t really considered how lonely an event like this could be. The only person you really know has been busy all day. You can’t complain, won’t complain, you know that’s why he’s here, but…

You’re sitting at a table full of strangers. It’s not exactly fun. There’s still hours left of this. Dinner hasn’t even been served, there’s still speeches and cake and dancing and honestly, you’re already exhausted. You need a drink, but the bar isn’t open yet. You need to take off your heels, but you’re pretty sure that would be frowned upon. You need to talk to your boyfriend.

He’s busy, though. He told you as much when you found him between the ceremony and the reception. There’s a pang in your chest still at the way he brushed you off, the way he told you he didn’t have time to chat. You get it, you really do. You’re not going to get upset about it.

The seat to your left has been empty since you sat down, but someone collapses into it, letting out a heavy sigh. You turn to look, hoping for some sort of familiar face or at least a friendly one, and you’re met with-

“Hi. ‘M Daniel,” he says, sticking his hand out to shake yours.

The thing is, Daniel is a familiar face, but not for any of the reasons you’d hoped for. You know Daniel because your boyfriend is obsessed with Formula 1. You try to keep up so you can take part in his conversations, but it’s never really been your thing. But you know enough to know Daniel Ricciardo.

“Yeah, I… I know,” you say, before you slap your hand over your mouth. “Shit! I’m sorry. That’s weird. S’just- my boyfriend’s a huge fan-“

You swear his face drops slightly, but he plasters that grin right back on before he says, “and you’re not a fan?”

“I’m not not a fan,” you say. “He’s just the bigger fan. Of the two of us.”

Daniel nods. You finally shake his hand. He never stops looking at you, never stops smiling. You tell him your name, and he repeats it back to you, his accented version making you smile.

“Well, is he here? I’d love to meet the bigger of the two fans,” he says. “We talking, like, box fan, industrial blower, air boat fan? How big?”

You laugh, his hand squeezing yours as you lean over the table. He’s laughing, too, then, before he lets go of your hand. You want to crawl out of your skin, want to run and hide in the bathroom, because you’re definitely making a fool of yourself, but-

“Oh, he’s busy,” you say, waving your hand in the air dismissively. “He’s one of the groomsmen, got a lot on his plate. I don’t wanna bug him. He’s the one with the sunglasses on,” you say, pointing at him at the head table.

Daniel looks where you point and quirks his brow. “Guy like that has a girl like you and you’re the one worried about bugging him?”

You stare at him with wide eyes. He collapses into a fit of laughter again, and you follow suit. You don’t know what else to do. Then he nudges your knee with his, under the table, and juts his chin towards the bar.

“D’you want a drink?” He asks.

“The bar isn’t open yet,” you say.

“So?”

“So, how are you going to get a drink?”

He shakes his head and purses his lips. “Oh, sweetheart, you just watch and learn. What’re you having?”

You shrug. “A soda, I guess. I’m the designated driver for at least three of the groomsmen.”

Daniel sighs heavily. “You poor thing. You keep making me feel worse and worse for you. Alright, I’ll get you something.”

He strides his way up to the bar, which has a very obvious “Closed” sign on the countertop. There’s a single bartender behind it, and he’s cleaning glasses. You watch with entertainment as Daniel leans on the counter, exuding confidence and charm. The bartender shakes his head. Daniel counters. The man behind the bar shrugs and nods. Then he steps through a door for just a moment. When he returns, he has two drinks in his hands- one that’s obviously a beer, and one that’s bright pink. Daniel smiles, thanks the man, and walks the cups back to you.

He sets it down in front of you with a flourish before he takes a seat.

“I told you, I’m DD,” you remind him.

He nods, taking a sip of his beer before he says, “Shirley Temple.”

“Oh my god,” you say, a grin washing over your face. You pick up the cup and take a sip, sighing at the sweet taste of ginger ale and grenadine. “How did you know?”

“Everyone loves a good Shirley,” he says, elbowing you lightly. “And you can’t drink just plain soda at a wedding.”

They announce dinner shortly after that, and the waiters start bringing plates out. You’re starving, having been up early to help with last minute wedding things at your boyfriend’s request. You hadn’t had time to eat lunch. You chat with Daniel through the meal. The two of you talk about the food, about the wedding, about the decor. There are other people at the table, but they’re all incredibly boring in comparison. Daniel, on the other hand, could hold your attention forever, probably.

You sneak glances at your boyfriend, surrounded by his friends at the head table. He’d promised to sneak away as soon as he got a chance. He hasn’t even looked your way. You're trying to ignore the hurt deep in your chest. Daniel is sneaking glances at you sneaking glances at the bridal party. You’re trying to ignore that, too.

“How long have you two been dating?” Daniel asks.

“About 6 months,” you say with a smile.

It feels forced. Frankly, the last thing you want to talk about right now is your boyfriend. They’re clearing the last plates. He’s at his table, three beers in by your count, not a care in the world. He promised. Daniel opens his mouth, likely to ask another question about your boyfriend, but you speak first.

“So wait, are you here for the bride or the groom?” You ask.

“The bride,” Daniel says , a soft smile on his face. “An old family friend. I’m representing the Ricciardos.”

You smile. “That’s sweet.”

Before he can say anything in response, someone is tapping on a microphone. It’s time for the speeches. You know your boyfriend isn’t making one, which is good. He’s not exactly the best public speaker, especially when he’s been drinking. You and Daniel settle in to listen.

He sneaks away between the maid of honor and the best man, patting the back of your hand and whispering about being right back. He returns a few moments later, another beer and a Shirley Temple in his hands. You smile gratefully at him, and he waves you off. Then the next speech is starting, and you’re rolling your eyes at the way the best man talks about marriage like it’s some awful idea.

“He knows this is a wedding, yeah?” Daniel asks out of the side of his mouth, leaning towards you.

You shrug. “That one started drinking at 9am. I’m not sure he even knows what year it is right now.”

Daniel starts laughing, then. Luckily, the rest of the crowd does too- apparently, the best man has just made an extremely funny joke. Daniel is only looking at you, though, and you can’t help but laugh just because of the look on his face.

When the first dances are over and the music starts, you sink low into your seat. Your boyfriend has still not made an appearance. He definitely knows where you’re sitting, he had told you so earlier. You’re sure he’s busy, but you’d looked away for too long, talking to Daniel, and now he’s disappeared from the head table. You scan the crowd, hoping to see his face. All the while, you can feel Daniel watching you.

“We could go dance,” he suggests.

You sink lower in your seat. “I don’t really like dancing.”

That’s a lie. You love dancing, especially at weddings. You love the cheesy songs they always play, you love the atmosphere, you love watching the bride and groom have fun and getting to be a part of it. But you know how it would look if you went out on the dance floor with Daniel, and your boyfriend definitely won’t be joining you. As frustrated as you may be with your him, you don’t want to cause drama at someone else’s best day of their lives.

“I think I might try and find him,” you say, picking up your drink.

Daniel nods. “Want me to come with you?”

You look around at the rest of the table and find it empty. You shake your head and lean towards him, close enough that you almost knock your foreheads. Nobody’s watching the two of you or trying to listen anyways, but it’s more fun this way.

“He promised he’d find me before dinner,” you whisper conspiratorially. “That obviously didn’t happen. So I’m not bringing you to him as a reward for bad behavior.”

Daniel sits back in his chair and smiles at you, one brow raised. “Atta girl!”

You stand up from your chair and hope he can’t tell that your face has grown hot from that comment alone.

Even if you can’t find your boyfriend, it’s probably best that you get some space from Daniel. Through the last hour or so of your conversation, you’ve been catching yourself leaning towards him and then reminding yourself that you have a boyfriend. It’s just that he’s being so nice, and that you’re feeling so down about the whole thing. He’s comforting, which is fine. But it can’t be more than that.

You find your boyfriend at one of the bars, leaning on the counter and talking loudly with one of the other groomsmen. He’s drunk already- he should really slow down if he wants to last the night. You walk over to him, forcing a soft smile onto your face. You can’t confront him now, not in front of his friend and all the people waiting for drinks.

“Hey, babe,” you say, tapping his shoulder lightly as you walk up.

He turns. You wait for him to smile at you, but it never comes. Your stomach sinks.

“Hey,” he says, nonchalantly. “D’you need something?”

Your palms feel clammy. “Oh, no, I’m good! Just… wanted to say hi. S’been a bit.”

He nods. “Yeah. I told you I’d be busy tonight.”

His friend just stands there and listens. Your skin feels hot, and your eyes begin to sting.

“I know,” you say. “I’m not trying to bug you, I just- I was just walking by. Just. Yeah. That’s all. I’ll leave you to it.”

“I’ll come find you in a bit, baby,” he promises.

You don’t bother believing him this time.

Daniel doesn’t comment on your red eyes or the tear tracks on your cheeks when you return to the table. He just squeezes your arm and disappears for a moment, then comes back with yet another Shirley Temple. You don’t know whether to laugh or to cry, so you just take a sip of the drink instead.

“You don’t have to sit here with me,” you say to Daniel. “I’m definitely pulling down the mood.”

“Are you joking?” He says. “You’re the best thing at this party.”

You laugh, then, because the statement is so ridiculous that you can’t help it. He sounds so serious, and when you turn to look at him there’s no hint of teasing on his face. He just elbows your arm lightly again.

“Come on, we don’t have to dance but we’re not sitting here all night,” he says. “Let’s go wander.”

He stands from the table and tugs at your chair. You give in and stand up too, taking your drink from the table. You follow him as he weaves through the throngs of people. You like wandering. Wandering is a perfectly sensible thing to do with the guy you just met. At the wedding your boyfriend is a groomsman at. What else are you supposed to do, anyways?

He leads you past the dance floor, which you try not to look at forlornly. There are large glass doors at the back of the hall. He swings one open, holding it for you, waving you through with a flourish of his hand. Outside, it’s lit up with string lights. There’s a wide rolling lawn of grass, with fire pits and chairs spread out everywhere. There are lawn games, too- beanbags and horseshoes and a giant version of Jenga.

You can burn a lot of time out here. You barely even notice when Daniel slips his hand around your wrist to gently pull you with him. You should feel guilty about it. Your boyfriend is somewhere inside. But that same boyfriend has also been ignoring you all night. Daniel is just being friendly. You follow him to one of the fire pits with a smile on your face.

You and Daniel are nearly two hours into wandering when someone calls your name. You look up from where you’ve been staring at the beanbag board, trying to line up your throw just right. You’d been on the verge of winning for the first time. For an Australian, Daniel is surprisingly good at American lawn games. Frustratingly good, even.

It’s your boyfriend, calling you from the doorway of the reception hall. You sigh and drop the beanbag onto the ground near your feet. Two of the other groomsmen are hanging off of him, looking worse for the wear. One of them has something down the front of his shirt- you pray it’s not vomit.

“I think that’s my cue,” you say, nodding towards the building.

“You could always put them in a cab and hope they figure it out on their own.” Daniel says. You give him a skeptical look. “Kidding, kidding.”

“It’s tempting,” you admit.

Daniel bends over and picks up your heels from where they lay in the grass. You’d kicked them off as soon as you stepped into the soft grass outside. You slip the shoes back on and wince. Then you stick your hand out to him, palm open.

“Well, it was lovely to meet you,” you say, as he shakes your hand once more. “Thanks for not leaving me all alone.”

Daniel laughs. “I will be your ‘I-know-nobody-at-this-event-‘ partner anytime you want, sweetheart. Just give me a call. I’ll be there.”

You know what he’s trying to do. The opportunity is right there in front of you. He’s telling you to give him a call- this is where you ask for his number. But you have a boyfriend. You can justify hanging out with him, especially considering you had nothing else to do, but asking for his number feels a step too far.

You smile softly and drop his hand. “Goodnight, Daniel.”

You turn and make your way towards your boyfriend. He’s already complaining before you’re even within ten feet of him, about how he’s tired and he looked everywhere for you and how could you disappear like that? You apologize, just to quiet him down. You usher the three men inside before you turn to look at Daniel one more time.

He’s standing there, watching you, a sad smile on his face.

“Who was that guy?” Your boyfriend asks later, from the passenger seat of the car.

You look at him, at his eyes. The light is gone- he’s blacked out, there’s no way he’ll remember this tomorrow.

“Daniel Ricciardo,” you say.

It’s a testament to how drunk he is that he doesn’t even react.

You get all three guys into bed, including your boyfriend. You lay down next to him, as much as you don’t want to. There’s not really anywhere else to sleep in the little hotel room, and you’re not sleeping on the floor. When you close your eyes, you can’t fall asleep, plagued by thoughts of if you’d made the right choice, unable to erase Daniel’s sad smile from your memory.

…..

You love weddings. You remind yourself of that over and over again as you pin a dress in place for the hundredth time that day. Your best friend Natalie is a bridesmaid, it’s her sister who’s getting married, and you’re here to help in any way you can. So far, that’s included safety pinning, making a run for alcohol, checking on the floral delivery, checking to make sure the groomsmen are where they’re supposed to be, and comforting a bridesmaid who was crying in the bathroom. Her boyfriend had broken up with her the night before.

“Men are shit,” you’d told her in commiseration.

By the time the ceremony rolls around, you’re relieved to have a chance to sit down. You check on the bridesmaids one last time and head into the church. The pews are packed with people, so you find a spot near the back and sit down. You sigh in relief.

The music starts playing, and you finally take a chance to look around. The pews are decorated with flowers, there’s bright light streaming through the large windows. The groom waits up front, eyes already watering. You love weddings. You say it like a mantra in your head.

As the procession starts, you scan the crowd. You know more people at this wedding, having been friends with the family for a while. You’ll at least have some company at your table. You spot a couple friends from high school, a cousin you’ve met a few times, some mutual friends who you’ll definitely have to catch up with later. And then, in the third row on the groom’s side, you see dark curly hair that looks terrifyingly familiar.

It can’t be him. That would be absolutely insane. There’s absolutely no way Daniel Ricciardo is attending a second wedding in the US, for a couple who are no more famous than the previous wedding you’d seen him at. It would make absolutely no sense. And yet, you can’t stop staring at the back of this man’s head, the slope of his shoulders beneath his dark suit. You remember that wedding, months ago, resting your hand on his shoulder for balance as you took off your heels. He’d joked about having to cut you off, holding your Shirley Temple in his hand.

When the bridal procession begins playing, everyone stands. You keep your eyes on him. He turns, and your heart skips a beat in your chest. It’s Daniel. It’s impossible, it’s irrational, but it is him. You’d recognize him anywhere.

You force yourself to look away, to turn towards the bride. She looks beautiful, perfect, the picture of elegance. The flowers in her hands, the ones you’d checked on that morning, are perfect too. You breathe a sigh of relief. She really should’ve hired a wedding coordinator. Maybe you should be a wedding coordinator.

When you go to sit back down, you sneak a glance at Daniel. He’s looking over his shoulder at you, eyes wide. You meet his gaze and your cheeks feel hot. That wide, bright grin breaks out across his face. You grin right back.

When the ceremony is over, and they’re officially Mr and Mrs, the whole wedding disperses out onto the lawn of the church. There are shuttles to take you to the reception, but everyone seems content to mingle outside in the fresh air. You’re one of the first ones out, but you’re quickly swept up in the crowd. You search for Daniel in every face that passes. You find Natalie first, though.

“Nat,” you say frantically. “Does your sister know Daniel Ricciardo?”

Her brow furrowed for a second. “What?”

“Danny Ricciardo,” you repeat, keeping your voice low. “The F1 driver. He’s here.”

“Oh,” Natalie says, brows raising. “Yeah, he’s like, friends with her fiancé- oh, her husband! Shit, I forgot that you watch that stuff- or, you… did? I can probably try and introduce you-“

“No, we- we’ve met.” You admit. She’s the first person you’re telling about this. “At that wedding like 6 months ago.”

She tilts her head at you. Her eyes go wide. She says your name in a bewildered tone.

“Are you telling me that the mystery wedding man, who you definitely should’ve dumped your boyfriend for, was fucking Danny Ricciardo?”

“Keep it down!” You shush her.

“Oh my god,” she says, a conspiratorial smirk crossing over her face. “And he’s here.”

Someone calls your name. You know that voice- it’s haunted you since you left that wedding. You turn over your shoulder as Natalie grabs your wrist and lets out a squeak.

“Danny,” you breathe, like a sigh of relief. “Hi.”

He strides up to you, handsome as ever, grinning so widely it looks like it hurts. “This is fucking insane.”

An elderly aunt glares at him. He makes an apologetic face before turning back to you and shrugging. He steps into your space, so close you can smell his cologne. He’s staring down at you through his lashes. The look in his eyes is so soft and warm that you think you’re melting.

“The bride is my best friend’s sister,” you explain, gesturing at Natalie. “This is Natalie.”

“I’m friends with the groom,” he says, reaches his hand out and shakes Natalie’s hand. “I’m Danny, nice to meet you.”

She nods, and suddenly you’re very afraid. Natalie doesn’t have much of a filter, especially in high pressure situations. Especially when she’s been forced to be prim and proper all morning.

“You must really like American weddings,” she says, and you wince. “I hear this is your second one in 6 months.”

Daniel smirks, raises his eyebrows at you. “Huh. Wonder what else you’ve heard about me.”

She opens her mouth to say something, but you shove her shoulder. “Nat, aren’t you supposed to be taking family pictures?”

She’s so busy staring at Daniel she almost doesn’t hear you. Then her eyes go wide. She swears loudly, earning a glare from the same aunt. Then she drops your wrist and takes off through the crowd.

You turn towards Daniel. “Sorry about her.”

He shakes his head. “No need. She seems sweet.”

You smile. “She is.”

“Makes sense, since she’s friends with you,” he says. “The sweetest of them all.”

You laugh, shove at his shoulder lightly. “Shut up.”

Behind him, people are starting to get on the shuttles. He’s leaning towards you, eyes still lit up.

“I honestly can’t believe this,” he says.

“Neither can I,” you admit. “It’s.. it’s really good to see you.”

“It’s good to see you,” he echoes. “Feels like a sign, doesn’t it?”

You open your mouth to agree, to tell him what you’ve been thinking the past 6 months, but Natalie is calling your name. You and Daniel both turn to look at her, and the look on her face tells you she’s so sorry. You sigh and shrug.

“I have to go,” you tell him. “That bridal party is a mess.”

“Worse than the last one?” He asks.

“No,” you say. “And I don’t have to drive any of them home, so that’s a bonus. But I think I’ll be billing them for wedding coordinator expenses after this. Or at the very least, drinking enough at the open bar to make up for it.”

Daniel laughs. “Atta girl. Should I save you a seat on the shuttle?”

You let out a puff of air. “I’m riding over with the bridal party.”

His face falls in disappointment. “Okay. Find me when you get there, yeah? I’ll have a Shirley Temple waiting for you.”

You nod. “Make it a Dirty Shirley, would you?”

He nods eagerly and squeezes your arm.

You don’t actually make it into the reception until nearly an hour later. There’s an emergency with a groomsman’s tux, and the girl who was broken up with the night before is crying again. Nothing that can’t be fixed with safety pins and tequila, but it still takes time. You check your name on the seating chart, sigh at the sight of the name next to yours, the seat that will stay empty. You find Daniel’s seat, too, a few tables over from yours. You head there first.

Daniel is sitting, a beer in hand and a very watery Shirley Temple on the table in front of him. He’s chatting with the man sitting next to him, who looks a bit starstruck. He perks up when he sees you, reaching for your drink. You take it happily and have a sip, tasting ginger ale, grenadine, and vodka, too.

“The ice is a bit melted,” he says with a sigh. “But good news! Ian here has offered to switch seats with you.”

Ian is looking between you and Daniel, eyes wide. You’re sure he did offer, likely after Daniel had told him the whole crazy story, or at least enough to convince him. You watched him charm bartenders at the last wedding- he has a way with words. Ian starts to stand up.

“That’s really not necessary.” You say, and Daniel’s face falls. “There’s an empty seat at my table.”

He lifts his brows, grinning again. His brown eyes stare deep into your own. He stands up without waiting another moment, handing you your drink and holding his own.

“Ian, nice meeting you,” he says. “I’ll still get you those paddock passes,” he promises, and you bite back a laugh. “See ya ‘round, mate.”

He follows you to your table. There’s a setting with your name on a little card, and the empty setting next to it with another name on it. You grab that card and crumple it in your hand, shoving it into your purse. He quirks a brow but sits down anyways as you greet the others at your table- cousins of the bride and friends who you’ve met a few times.

“So. How’ve things been?” You ask, and he launches into a story that has you listening with every bone in your body.

Somehow, the two of you make it all the way through dinner and speeches and the first dance before the subject of your boyfriend even comes up. You wonder if he’s been waiting to broach it. You’ve been waiting for the right moment.

He nods towards the dance floor. “You have to promise me you’ll dance to at least one song tonight.”

You blink and shrug. “Easy. I love dancing.”

He stares at you. There’s the beginnings of another wide grin on his face.

“That is not what you said last time.”

“I lied,” you admit. “Because my boyfriend hated dancing.”

Daniel nods. “Hated. Past tense?”

“He’s not dead,” you deadpan, making him laugh. “But he’s also not my boyfriend anymore.”

Daniel’s foot nudges against yours under the table. “No?”

“No,” you say with a shrug.

Daniel nods. “Pretty girl like you, you must’ve moved on pretty quick,” he says.

His tone is light, teasing. He’s testing the waters. You shake your head and pretend you don’t see the way his shoulders sag in relief.

“I’ve sworn off dating,” you tell him. Your tone is teasing, too. “After he left me on my own at a wedding, I decided men are shit.”

You’re taunting him now. The conversation has gone from feeling each other out, from digging for information, to circling each other like sharks in the water. Your heart is beating steady in your chest. His eyes are locked on yours.

“You poor thing,” he says, eyes sparkling. “Let me prove you wrong?”

The tension crackles in the air. His knee nudges against yours and you swear you’re going to combust. You down the rest of your drink in one gulp, set the glass down, and reach for his suit jacket. You run your finger down the lapel, then back up, adjusting his collar.

“I swore off men,” you repeat, leaning forwards, keeping your voice low. “But this feels like a sign, doesn’t it? Like the universe sent me back to you.”

He nods. He reaches up, captures your wrist in his hand and holds it against his chest.

“So maybe you should go get me another drink,” you suggest. “And I’ll meet you on the dance floor.”

You lean even closer, then, close enough to press your lips to his cheek. Then you stand up and walk away towards where people are beginning to gather, to where the music is loudest. You don’t turn back to see if he’s watching. You already know he is.

…..

You have a fleeting thought, later, that maybe you should’ve switched to a drink with less sugar in it at some point in the night. The grenadine feels like it’s stuck to your tongue. Danny doesn’t seem to mind the taste, though.

He’s got you up against the wall in a back hallway of the reception venue. You back is pressed to the cool surface, your arms around his neck, his hands on your hips. His lips are on yours, and he’s kissing you deeply, like he’ll never get enough. You’re feeling the same.

His knee slots between your legs, and you’re a goner. His hand slips from your hip and cups your ass, hauling you closer with ease, tilting your hips away from the wall and into his. You break away for air, gasping for it, and he moves his lips to your neck. It feels heavenly, trapped between him and the wall, his hands all over you, his lips trailing lower and lower. He reaches up and brushes the thin strap of your dress off one of your shoulders. You shove your hands under his suit jacket and press them against his toned abdomen through his shirt. He lets out a groan, the noise vibrating against your neck. You throw your head back and laugh between gasps.

You wonder if he’d have his way with you right there. You wonder if you’d let him.

There are footsteps, then, clicking their way down the hall. You scramble to push him away as someone rounds the corner, but you know it’s painfully obvious. You turn your head, already feeling mortified, and come face to face with Natalie.

“Oh, thank god,” both you and your best friend say at the same time.

Daniel pulls away and looks between the two of you. You can’t look at him for more than a few seconds. His lips are red and puffy, his eyes half lidded. You distantly wonder if there’s beard burn on your face, if your lips are just as red. Then you start to wonder how his scruff might feel on other parts of you.

“I didn’t know where you’d gone,” Natalie says, laughing. “I heard noises, I thought…”

“I’m fine,” you tell her, and she nods in agreement.

“I’ll say,” she teases.

“Nat!” You hiss.

“You’d better take good care of her, Ricciardo,” he says, and your face grows hot all over again. “I don’t care how famous you are, I’ll fuck you up anyways.”

“Nat!” You hiss again.

“I will,” Danny promises, squeezing your hip and nodding. “I’m on a mission. Trying to prove not all men are shit.”

“Good luck,” Natalie says drily. But when she walks away, she’s smiling.

He turns back to you, and this time he places both his hands on the wall on either side of your head. You look up at him, licking your lips. You still taste the Shirley Temple, and you can taste him, too, now. He groans softly and closes his eyes. It’s nice to know you’re having an effect on him, too, nice to know you’re not the only one feeling worked up. You reach up and tug on the lapels of his jacket. You brush your lips against his jaw.

“We should have one more drink,” you tell him, humming happily. “And then you should take me to your hotel.”

He swallows. You press a kiss to the center of his throat.

“I’ve never heard a better plan in my whole life.” He says.

…..

At every wedding you go to afterwards, you order the same drink. Well, really, Danny orders them for you. You’ve thought a couple times about asking for wine or seltzer or even beer. You think it might break his heart, though. It’s a tradition now, and the pink sugary concoction will always taste like that very first night. Like bare feet in the grass, the thud of beanbags against wooden boards. Like Daniel’s laugh in the middle of the best man’s speech. Like you, alone at a table, and Daniel collapsing into the seat next to you, his hand extended to shake yours.

The same hand that’s wrapped up with yours now, resting on his knee. You never want to let go. You’re pretty sure he’d be okay with that.

Taglist: @4-mula1 @celestialams

#daniel riccardo x reader #Danny Ricciardo x reader #Daniel Ricciardo x you #Danny Ricciardo x you #f1 fanfic #f1 x reader #f1 x you #honeywrites #formula 1 fanfic

[lxndonorris]

the racing bull - Daniel Ricciardo (SFS24)

Y/N x Daniel Ricciardo Theme: Smut, Teasing, Touching Daniel returns from his suit fitting with a surprise x word count: 1930+ taglist: @game-set-canet first installment of the suit fitting saga 2024, if you have any requests let me know!

The anticipation built steadily throughout the day as you waited for your boyfriend, Daniel, to return from his suit fitting. The thought of him in his new racing gear, sleek and confident, made your heart race almost as fast as his car on the track. Unfortunately, work commitments kept you from joining him, but he promised to flood your phone with pictures once he got home.

It's late at night when you hear the door swinging open. Still sitting at your desk, face buried in a dozen books, adrenaline pumps through your veins as everything is now forgotten. Daniel is back home. 

Your heart races upon hearing footsteps echoing through the hallway, but then they stop. 

"You didn't send me any pictures, Daniel." A bit disappointed, you turn around to find Daniel casually leaning against the doorframe. But to your surprise, instead of pulling out his phone to show you pictures, he is wearing his new racing suit. 

"Surprise," he says, his voice low and husky with excitement. Daniel runs a hand down his own chest, just along the zipper of the crisp white fabric with vibrant blue accents.

Your jaw drops as you take in the sight before you. Daniel, the love of your life, stands there looking like a god among men, his muscles defined beneath the fabric, his eyes sparkling with mischief. You can't help but gasp with appreciation.

"You..... you're wearing it now?" You stammer, unable to tear your eyes away from him. 

He nods, taking a step closer until you feel the warmth of his body radiating toward you. 

"I wanted you to see it in the flesh." Daniel runs both hands down his chest, feeling himself grow tenser with every second. "And besides, I couldn't wait to show it off to you." He smiles before licking his lips in anticipation.

You reach out tentatively, getting up from the chair to run your fingers over the smooth fabric of his suit, marveling at how perfectly it fits him. Every contour of his athletic form is accentuated, making him look even more irresistible than usual.

Daniel enjoys your hands all over his chest, and he starts purring like a happy cat. He leans into you, his face just inches away from yours, yet your eyes are stuck at his suit, his chest, his entire body.

"You look incredible." You urmur, feeling your cheeks flush with heat.

His body is thick and huge, growing tenser with every little stroke of your hand. You know he is so excited, maybe even more than you are. The weeks before the season starts are always filled with moments like these, and sharing them with Daniel makes them even more precious.

Daniel grins, a mischievous glint in his beautifully shining eyes. 

"Wanna see me strike a few poses?" He asks, already starting to flex his arms and show off his muscles through the tight suit.

You giggle, feeling a rush of affection for this man, who never fails to surprise you. "Of course," you say, stepping back to admire the view.

As he moves through a series of poses, you can't help but feel a surge of pride and arousal swell within you. Here was your boyfriend, confident and strong, ready to take on the new season. And he is all yours.

His body is ready for the upcoming trials. As he lifts his arms, you can tell he's been working out like crazy; his muscles are bulging through the suit, and he is pushing himself, knowing how much you love seeing him in his new gear. 

His thick pecs are on display as well as his pretty asses; he knows his audience, giving you a good look at all of him. 

As he strikes another pose, Daniel smirks, biting his lower lip, something he would do when he was getting more and more into it. 

After a few more minutes of admiring his display, Daniel finally relaxes, his breath coming out in soft puffs. He takes a step closer, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you close until you feel the steady beat of his heart against your chest.

You lean into him, kissing him lovingly. He, however, goes a step further. His tongue slips into your mouth, exploring every corner of it while leaving drops of his precious taste behind. This, mixed with his familiar scent swirling around your nose, sends shivers down your spine.

"Daniel." You moan breathlessly right into his mouth, but then he pulls away just enough for his taste to linger on your lips.

"You wanna see what's underneath?" He grolws deeply, one hand already at the collar of his suit, playing with its button.

Nodding slowly, you take a deep breath.

Carefully, he unbuttons his suit and pulls the zipper down to reveal his bare chest.

Swallowing hard, you can't help but steady yourself against his strong frame, and he gladly holds you close.

Firmly, you run both hands up and down his rock-hard chest. All of that teasing, posing, and overall tension hovering all around you is showing its effect on him.

Daniel takes several deep breaths, his eyes following your hands every move.

"I know you love the fireproofs." He breathes deeply, his eyes meeting yours again, pulling you into him even more. "But I couldn't resist."

A coy smile spreads across your lips as his burning gaze ignites a fire inside your belly.

This is good." You say, enjoying running your hands all over his chest, that his bare skin is warm yet so soft.

As you feel him and touch him firmly, he starts to purr again, but this time his voice is huskier and rougher than usual. 

At the same time, his hands wander down your back, right to your arse, cupping your cheeks to hold you close to him.

"I love this." You murmur again, playing with his nipples, knowing very well that this makes him happy. "Thank you." 

Daniel lifts his head slightly, trying to hold back a low groan but failing. 

"I'm glad you like it." He leans in to kiss you again; this time, it's much more gentle, yet there is an undeniable desire building up in both of your bodies.

To tease him, you run a hand even further down his body, right to his crotch, feeling the excitement that's been building up inside Daniel, presumably for the entire day.

Right away, he moans into your mouth before leaning his head back and embracing your hand, tracing the tangible outlines of his member tenting inside his new suit.

"Fuck, this feels gooood." He mumbles, closing his eyes for a second.

You let your eyes wander down his firm chest before tracing the letters written across his waistline. 

'Ricciardo'

You follow each letter with your index finger, one at a time, while you keep on findling with his length through his suit, causing him to let out multiple low groans, giving you goosebumps.

His entire body reacts to your touch, growing harder and harder, and Daniel slowly regains his composure, resting his head against yours.

"This is even better than expected." He breathes down your neck before he starts to grind his hips against your hand. "I was thinking about this for the entire day." 

Smirking, you grab his member firmly, causing him to whimper.

"Me too." You embrace his body against yours, giving in to him completely.

You stare into each other's eyes for what feels like an eternity before he kisses you again; this time, it's a much more passionate kiss.

Together, you make your way toward the sofa, kissing and touching each other.

You lay down on your back while watching him slip out of the upper part of his suit, revealing his well-formed chest. Daniel is breathing deeply as well, running a hand through his curly hair and across his chest, right to the visible bulge inside his trousers.

"See what you're doing to me?" He growls, and his lips form a coy smile.

Biting your lips and holding back a million things you could say to him in response, you just motion for him to join you on the sofa.

Effortlessly, but with a sly smirk, Daniel climbs on top of you, one hand steadying himself against the cushions, the other now firmly on your chest, touching your boobs.

"Mhmm." You moan into his mouth, one hand still on his member, the other now back on his bare chest.

While you're grinding on each other, his crotch against your thighs, you turn your head to the side to catch some much-needed air.

Daniel doesn't mind; instead, he places kisses all over your neck, and his hot breath tingles on your skin.

"Do you want me?" You run a hand along his spine, toward the back of his head, and through his slightly messy hair.

Daniel takes a deep breath, separating himself from your neck for just a moment to look into your eyes.

"So much." His words barely come out as his voice breaks.

"I'm all yours." You lean in and kiss him again while running your hand all over him, his chest, shoulders, neck, and further down to his length towering inside his pants.

Lovingly, he unbuttons your pants, and as he pulls them down, he places kisses all over your waist and your thighs. His beard tickles your skin, but you love this even more.

Easily, he then pulls his member out of the suit and climbs back on you. 

You feel him grinding on your thighs before he bends down, his chest just inches away from yours.

Once his lips meet your own, you feel him entering your body. Both of you get stiff and rigid, letting out low moans and groans in unison.

Unable to keep your eyes open, you give in to him again, letting him guide you with kisses and gentle thrusts.

Daniel moves deliberately, slowly yet steadily increasing the pace and strength, while you wrap your arms around his back and neck, stroking him firmly.

"Mhmm." He moans deep into your throat.

In this moment of pure blissful harmony, you let go of all of your thoughts, embracing Daniel with all your body. 

It feels like an eternity has passed when the built-up tension inside your body gets nearly unbearable. You can tell he is feeling the same by the way he's moving, growling, and grunting.

After a heavy thrust, both of you stop and scream out together in ecstasy.

Exhausted but satisfied, he steadies himself against the sofa, so his face hovers over yours.

"I love you so much." Daniel smiles and kisses you again.

"I love you too." You say, and cuddle for a little while longer before he separates himself, gets off the sofa, and fixes his suit.

You get dressed again as well, and lean back against the soft cushions behind you, watching him put his suit back on, one sleeve at a time.

"You look so good, Daniel." You admire his strong physique, and with his back turned to you, you get a good look at his pretty arse.

Daniel looks at you above his shoulder, a shy smile playing on his lips. 

"Thank you." He runs a hand through his hair and then across his chest once more. "I like this suit so much."

You get up as well and hug him from behind, resting your head against his back.

"I know you'll do great this year." Stroking his chest, you close your eyes.

Daniel cups your hand with his own before turning around and hugging you tightly.

#daniel ricciardo x reader #daniel ricciardo imagine #daniel ricciardo x you #daniel ricciardo smut #daniel ricciardo fanfic #f1 x reader #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #f1 fic #f1 x you #formula 1 x reader #formula 1 imagine #formula 1 fanfic #Suit fitting saga 2024

[dilemmaontwolegs]

We’ve Got Tonight || LN4

Pairing: Lando Norris x singer!reader Summary: When you catch your boyfriend cheating you get your sweet revenge and a handsome stranger who steps in to protect you. Warnings: being cheated on, angst, injury

Songs: Shania Twain - Man! I feel like a woman Garth Brooks - Friends in low places Carrie Underwood - Before he cheats Kenny Rogers & Sheena Easton - We’ve got tonight

Lando couldn’t believe he had let Daniel drag him out to the Texan bar. It was completely polar opposite to anything he was used to, but Danny fit right in with his Stetson hat and cowboy boots. 

Lando winced into his glass as the latest woman to take the corner stage butchered a Shania Twain song but it didn’t seem to bother his drinking buddy as he left to join the rows of people line dancing. Lando was grateful when the song came to an end but it was short lived as he heard a familiar Australian accent on the mic talking the band into playing Friends in Low Places. Spinning around on his stool at the bar, the McLaren driver found his old teammate on the small stage grinning like a fool as the music started. 

Lando watched the older driver and envied the confidence he had to sing terribly to a bar full of strangers. It didn’t matter if he couldn’t hold a note or match the key - Daniel had presence and was always entertaining. The song was almost over when a change of light caught Lando’s eye and he swivelled back to see the saloon doors swing shut behind you. 

Lando nearly fell off his chair. The sight of your smile was dazzling and he swore the colours in the room were brighter because of it. He hardly remembered to breathe as you cast your eyes around the bar, searching for something he suddenly hoped he had. Disappointment landed heavy on his chest as your pretty eyes settled on the pool tables and he wondered which one of the handsome men was lucky enough to have you. 

He started to turn away and wash the bitter taste of jealousy from his mouth with his drink when he saw the smile dim. It was like a cloud had come and blocked the sun, shadows curving your lips down until they pressed to a hard line and your eyes narrowed on a man. Lando swallowed at the change thinking you was even more beautiful, like lightning in a thunderstorm. Beautiful, dangerous, deadly.

Then you were gone, the tassels on your boots swaying quickly as you disappeared out the door as quickly as you came. 

“Whatcha looking for?” Daniel asked as he dropped back into his seat. Lando hadn’t even noticed the song had ended while he watched the empty space in the doorway, another singer taking the stage. 

“N-nothing,” he stammered quickly as he turned back to the bar and raised his glass to his dry lips. 

“Whatever you say, mate,” Daniel chuckled as he clapped Lando on the back. “She was hot though, right?” 

Lando coughed and sputtered on his drink as Daniel laughed knowingly. “Don’t you have a girlfriend?”

“Yeah, but I’m not blind. And since you’re single, you should get off your ass and lasso yourself a lady friend. You know what they say: save a horse, ride a cowgir-” Lando clamped a hand over Daniel’s mouth as his cheeks turned pink. 

“You can’t say that, dude! You are totally going to get cancelled one day.”

Daniel shrugged and sent him a lopsided grin as he looked over Lando’s shoulder. “Looks like it’s  your lucky day.”

—

White hot rage left your hands shaking as you dropped the baseball bat and walked away, the metal clanking loudly on the asphalt of the parking lot. You didn’t even notice the trickle of blood running down your fingertips from cutting your palm with Damon’s hunting knife when you slashed the tyres of his Ford Raptor. You couldn’t feel anything except the burning need for revenge.

All the joy you had felt on the drive to the bar had been forgotten. The phone call with the news seemed like a lifetime ago and you hated him all the more for ruining what should have been the best day of your life so far.

After years of hard work you were finally catching a break and had been signed to Big Loud and would soon be recording your own country music. You had been so excited you had left work early and driven across town to surprise Damon. What a surprise he would get.

You looked ahead at the bar you had left, still seeing the way he curled himself around her, the pretense of pretending to teach her how to play pool - the same trick he had used to get close to you the night you met. Rotten bastard. It made you question the last two years together and how many other women he pulled the same moves on. You were going to teach him a lesson, and maybe save her from the same fate.

You swaggered into the bar and felt eyes on you, but the only pair that didn’t turn were his. Damon was too enraptured by the woman dancing against him, a dainty cocktail spilling over her glass. 

“Mind if I butt in next, Jimmy?” you asked the old man who loved to sing a bit of Kenny Rogers after a few drafts of beer. 

“Not at all, pumpkin, been a while since you joined us.” The song was just finishing and Jimmy jutted his chin at Damon as he poured two shots of whiskey, offering one to you. “Say, ain’t that your old man?”

“Not any more.” You downed the shot and inhaled the burn before taking the stage and telling the band what to play. 

—

Lando stepped off his stool as the song started and his feet carried him closer to the stage with Daniel right at his side, not that he noticed. You hadn’t even parted your lips but he knew, somehow he just knew, you would sound perfect. The song was one he recognised, maybe from a movie or just on the radio, but it hit differently when he saw your eyes boring holes into the couple still dancing together by the pool tables. 

Right now, he's probably slow dancin' with a bleach-blonde tramp and she's probably gettin' frisky. Right now, he's probably buyin' her some fruity little drink 'cause she can't shoot whiskey. Right now, he's probably up behind her with a pool stick showin' her how to shoot a combo. And he don't know…

Lando couldn’t breathe as he watched the realisation dawn on the stranger who looked up from the blonde woman he had been grinding on. The man’s jaw went slack and he half shoved the woman from his lap as he straightened up, a small shake of his head when he met the eyes on the stage. He could almost hear the whispered ‘oh no’ fall from his lips and he felt a smug satisfaction on your behalf. 

I dug my key into the side of his pretty little souped-up four-wheel drive. Carved my name into his leather seats. I took a Louisville slugger to both headlights. Slashed a hole in all four tires. Maybe next time, he'll think before he cheats.

Your smile was dark and you watched Damon blanch at the sight, only making you feel even better for what you had done.

I might've saved a little trouble for the next girl, 'cause the next time that he cheats, Oh, you know it won't be on me. No, not on me.

“No, no, baby, no,” Damon whined as he tugged the short strands of his hair and rushed out of the bar, leaving his date in a state of confusion until her brain caught up and her hands shot to cover her mouth in shock. 

“Yeah, he played us both, honey,” you said as you shoved the mic back in the stand and crossed your arms as the doors burst open.

“You crazy bitch!” Damon tried to rush the stage only to find himself shoved back by a handsome stranger who was apparently a lot stronger than he looked. “Get the fuck out of my way!”

“Not gonna happen, mate,” he said with a chuckle, his British accent sweet on the ears. “I think you’ve done enough, don’t you?”

“She ruined my fucking truck! Do you know how much that cost?”

You scoffed and stepped up behind the stranger, feeling bolder as you saw his arms flex ready to protect you. “Too much, but I guess you had to overcompensate for something small,” you said as your eyes darted to his trousers and the taller companion barely contained his laugh.

“Oh, I like this one, Lando. She’s got fire.”

“Just give me my house key and leave, it’s over.” You held out your palm waiting until he fisted his keys from his pocket and cursed your name as he pulled it off the keyring. 

“Where the fuck am I meant to live?”

You looked over at the woman and asked, “Do you want to take him home, honey?” She shook her head now that she knew he was a no good cheater and your smile widened as you turned back to Damon. “You’ll be nice and cozy in your pickup.”

He stepped forward but Lando’s friend joined him shoulder to shoulder and Damon quickly realised he was not going to win whatever went down. With his tail between his legs, he turned and grumbled his way out the door before the band started up and Jimmy kicked off with We’ve Got Tonight. 

“I don’t know how to thank you,” you said as the two strangers finally deemed it safe to turn their backs on the door and face you. A pair of stormy blue eyes met yours and you blinked twice before you managed to look away, scanning a quick glance over the messy styled curls on his head to the slim black t-shirt that fitted perfectly. Your lips dried as you realised you were staring and he cleared his throat when he caught himself doing the same. 

“Can I buy you a drink?”

You bit your lip at the offer and tipped your head to the side. “I think I should be the one buying you a drink, your friend too. It’s the least I can do.”

“Daniel,” the taller man said with a grin and held his hand out to shake.

“Y/N.”

“Enchanté.”

“Uh, bless you.”

Lando laughed and the sound brought a smile to your face. “I know how you can thank me,” he said as he nodded to Jimmy who was grabbing a second microphone and pointing it your way. “I’m fairly sure this song is a duet. Know it?”

You smirked as you stepped back and gave him a wink before taking the stage, his eyes never leaving yours and you sang just for him.

We've got tonight, Who needs tomorrow? Let's make it last, Let's find a way Turn out the light, Come take my hand now We've got tonight, babe, Why don't we stay?

His nod was almost imperceptible and you weren’t sure if you imagined it as you let the question hang in the air while the music faded out. In two long, self-certain steps, he closed the distance and offered his hand to help you down the steps and you grinned at the warmth of his palm as he laced your fingers with his.

Suddenly he froze and looked down, concern etching his features as he pulled his hand back and found it stained red. “Fuck, you’re hurt.”

You blinked at the cut on your palm, only noticing the ache after your attention was drawn to it. “Huh, guess that’s what I get for slashing his tyres,” you murmured with a weak laugh.

“He deserved more than that,” Lando growled as he led you to the bar and asked for a first aid kit. “But he definitely didn’t deserve you.”

“You don’t know me, I could be a terrible person.” You winced as he cleaned the cut before pressing a bandage to stem the bleeding.

“I’m a pretty good judge of character, Y/N.” He pinned the bandage into place before lifting your hand to his lips and kissing the top softly. “I knew it from your smile when you arrived, and everything after just proves you’re strong.”

Your chin dipped as you felt your face flush and you couldn’t remember the last time someone was so sweet. “You really know how to make a girl feel special. So how long are you in town for?”

His lips turned down slightly as he sighed and reluctantly admitted. “We fly back to London tomorrow.”

You felt the same disappointment but chased it away and squeezed his hand that still held yours, your eyes meeting with the same idea flitting past. “We’ve got tonight?”

His smile returned and grew until his eyes wrinkled with how wide it was, brightening up his whole face and sparking yours to match. “Yeah, we’ve got tonight.”

#lando norris fanfic #lando norris imagine #lando norris x reader #lando norris x y/n #lando norris x you #f1 imagines #f1 fanfic #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #formula one imagine #formula 1 fanfic

[kedsandtubesocks]

cowboys like us

Bull Rider!Din Djarin x F!Reader x Bronco Rider!Jack Daniels

summary: one cowboy is already a challenge, but two is either going to be your best blessing or worst curse

warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY MDNI, modern rodeo cowboys AU, Din is still a papa and has his baby, light discussion of the rodeo and events, light angst & miscommunication with eventual resolution, Jack & his sweet talk with calling reader ‘baby, honey, sugar,” bar scene with moments of drinking, heavy making out, intense grinding & dry humping, spicy moments, M/M/F & M/M dynamics, polyamorous exploration that leads to eventual poly relationship

word count: 5.9k

a/n: welcome to the first fic of the ‘Let’s Rodeo’ series! I know, I know, this is such a strange combo & AU but I’m such a sucker for cowboy Din and of course Jack decided to barge in and here we are lol, the biggest and deepest thank you’s go to @perotovar @lowlights @nothoughtsjustmeds & @beskarandblasters - this wouldn’t be here without y’all and I’m so eternally grateful…and to you if you’re reading this thank you so much

You wonder if maybe you’ve unknowingly slipped into a strange country song and not realized it.

Popcorn litters the floor all around. The plastic arena seat is a bit uncomfortable. A drunk woman behind you almost spilled beer on you but apologized profusely. There are more cowboy hats here than you’ve ever seen in your entire life.

But as you sit in this strange existence a voice over the loudspeaker comes and sparks up your soul. As the announcer’s voice booms, loud screams swallow up the air of the stadium.

You spot him already climbing onto the bronco and your heart jumps into your throat.

“The man smooth as whiskey!” The announcer screams clear and booming with an accented southern pride.

“Give it up for Jack Daniels!”

Shrill shrieks erupt fanatically loud as if the place now morphes into a boy band concert instead of a rodeo competition.

That is until the alarm sounds. The chute opens, and the ride begins.

Focusing on Jack is chaotic. The bronco bucks frenzied trying to throw the cowboy off with a wild strength. His black Stetson hat goes flying and your stomach drops at how rapidly his body whips around. Back and forth, back and forth, he tries holding on with simply one hand.

It’s terrifying. It’s hypnotic.

Then it’s over fast.

The beautiful horse flings off Jack and he lands on the dirt. You clutch the edge of your plastic seat. The horse continues bucking and your mind rushes to the worst case scenario of the creature’s strong might rearing down on Jack.

Then the cowboy springs up like nothing.

A smile even illuminates his handsome face and it ignites the crowd into a gleeful roar.

You don’t even know if he did good. You barely understand the point system or average or whatever it is.

The horse thankfully settles and Jack struts away effortless.

Suddenly Jack’s salt of the earth eyes flick up. He scans the crowd until his gaze lands on you.

The seat you’re in sits close to the edge of the arena, on the floor just right outside the ring.

Then, with all the confidence of a man whose job it is to ride a bucking bronco, Jack blows you a kiss.

The drunk woman behind you along with her friends scream their heads off thinking he blew the kiss to them. Maybe he did. He’s a damn flirt. You even glance backward to see one of the girls, very drunk, tries to calm herself down from freaking out.

Jack now walks heads to the side to exit. His eyes however stay glued to you. And the minute you turn back to stare at him…he winks.

Then he vanishes.

This cowboy might be this event’s closer, but this isn’t the end of the rodeo for you. The incoming bull rides shift the air. It’s considered another heavy hitter main event and the anticipation bubbles.

Unlike Jack, who arrives like a firecracker ready to brighten up any room he enters, this cowboy emerges like a shadow.

Keeping his head down, it doesn’t help that a protective mask covers his handsome face. However, the energy radiating off the cowboy’s deadly focus composure is like a quiet storm on the horizon.

He stays silent, doesn’t even lift his eyes up, almost in a focused trance.

“Mr. Silent and Deadly himself… Din Djarin!” The announcers boom out his name.

Then you watch as the man becomes a myth, one who tames a wild force of nature.

Din and bull fly out of the chute with a choking force.

In the same way your breath stopped watching Jack getting bucked around, the same dizzying panic fills you as Din battles the same force.

He stubbornly stays on, rides as the bull thrashes around. You wonder if this is where some mythologies stem from because it is something unreal watching this man move with this powerful creature.

The crowd hoots and hollers cheering Din on. You stay petrified in your seat.

Then the ride finishes fast.

Din flies off the bull and your breathing stops. Rapidly the trainers along with other cowboys scramble to settle the bull and check on Din. The bull rider casually rises up unbothered, unshaken, and the crowd goes wild.

You exhale a loud shaken sigh of relief. Your body feels like jello, as if fear has finally been exorcized from your body leaving you a boneless mess.

Suddenly Din rips the guard mask off and all attention falls to him. Sweat adds a shine to his face and his hair is a tousled mess but he’s never looked more gorgeous.

“What the fuck?! Dude, he’s hot too?!” Someone squawks out.

The ladies sitting behind you of course notice Din and squeal out feverishly. Unlike Jack, an actual peacock who owns the crowd basking in the attention, Din’s face stays lowered with his eyes averted shyly.

Until his dark eyes suddenly flicker up, like a viper peering out from a cave. His eyes find you surprisingly fast.

You and him simply stare at each other. Then so quickly Din averts his eyes away again and heads off.

The shakiest exhale leaves you.

Your heartbeat drums loud in your ears as if you were the one who just finished the wild rides. And maybe you did in your own way.

“Oh my fucking god!” Behind you one of the girls screams. “So many hot cowboys! Like, how the fuck do you pick just one?!”

Alcohol drenches her playful words. However, to you they become barbed and catch on your heart. Because how do you pick between two handsome cowboys different as day and night.

“Babe!” One of the girls giggles. “That’s the secret, you don’t pick just one! You have ‘em all!”

She howls a wild laugh and the others scream scandalized but gleeful. One of them even jokingly says ‘so you gotta catch ‘em all like pokemon!’ which almost makes you laugh.

But the words hang in your heart like a rusting anchor.

Grabbing your bag, you head out. Arriving at the backstage area of the arena, you flash the visitor’s access pass to security who lets you through. You’ve only done this a few times before but your heart still races getting this type of entrance.

Earlier today Din said he’d wait for you after in the small rest waiting room. When you open the door, you stumble upon a sight.

Jack's hand firmly holding Din’s face -

As the two men passionately kiss each other.

Jack’s taller than Din, slightly, not by much. Din’s build however is firmer, solid, compared to Jack’s sleek stature.

Immediately they both break away from each other as if electrocuted.

Din and Jack’s eyes catch sight of you and their faces fall. Din whispers your name out while Jack stays silent.

Reality rams into you like a released wild bull.

Because you realize you’ve interrupted them. You're barging in, an actual third wheel.

You want to move, want to say something. But you can’t even imagine what. It clicks that you read this whole situation wrong. Maybe neither of them actually held feelings for you.

A sudden loud knock on the wall makes you and the cowboys practically jump.

One of the event announcers pops his head in casually.

“Hey sorry, but you’re needed out back Djarin.” He says to Din then leaves.

Even with the surprise arrival and then departure, the thick tension doesn’t leave the air. If anything it’s caused a strange vacuum to form.

Jack now breathes out your name hesitantly. Yet, his eyebrows are furrowed hard, concerned and upset. Din’s dark eyes shine so visibly soaked with worry.

Before you can even say anything one of Jack’s main coaches and manager, Champ, waltzes in. He’s a striking presence that draws all the focuses to him

Champ whistles loud. “Who died in here?”

No one says a word.

“Alrighty then,” Champ shrugs, not wanting to dive into whatever he senses.

“Daniels come on,” he urges. “I ain’t waiting anymore. They’re probably waiting for you too Dinny.”

Champ’s nickname for Din, which Din himself detests, makes you smirk and brightens your spirit for a moment.

But the awful tension stays sticking to your skin allowing a poison to seep in.

“Hey there, sweet pea.” Champ nods his head acknowledging you. With a weak smile you nod back.

You politely excuse yourself and leave.

The walk out of the arena is the longest of your life.

Everything you just saw flashes through your mind a rapid flip picture book. You can process what you saw but can’t fully grasp it.

Even outside, the roar of the rodeo swirls around even in you.

You might have wandered into a country song earlier but you didn’t realize it was going to be a heartbreak one.

You met Din first in a grocery store parking lot.

It had been a total accident. Literally. You had gotten into a small fender bender with him in the parking lot of a grocery store.

He drove the oldest silver Honda Civic ever still existing and still can’t believe it didn’t even manage to take a hit. You were also horrified when you saw there was a baby sleeping away in the car.

Yet the entire time Din was so kind and concerned about your wellbeing.

You didn’t realize it then, but that shy and very handsome scruffy man with his ancient Honda Civic would change the orbit of your life.

Because that day you accidentally collided with a cowboy, it opened your world like a vast desert horizon.

Jack arrived soon after.

If Din was the soft daybreak, then Jack came in like a dust devil.

Though they competed in two different categories, you discovered many rodeo circuits crossed paths.

When you went to visit Din months ago at the ranch housing many of the cowboys for training, that’s when you first met Jack.

He walked straight up to you and asked if you were lost because he was concerned heaven was missing an angel.

He hasn’t shut his mouth since.

Before it was simply you and Din. But Jack is a force that seems to barge his way in like the wild broncos he rode.

He is shameless in flirting. He often playfully touches yours and Din’s cheeks often, or casually drapes himself over you or his fellow cowboy.

Din on the other hand is quietly sweet. He routinely sends you photos of the sunrises of all the cities he travels to.

So opposite, they almost are like the sun and moon.

You began caring for them fiercely and fell so fast.

But now, you contemplate if you simply played yourself a fool becoming your own rodeo clown.

All the ideas, all the heavy conflict of having to pick between the two of them, taste bitter on your tongue. You take a long swing of your drink to hopefully wash it away. It doesn’t.

Din texted you asking to please meet him here at this bar near the secondary training arena and now you wait.

It’s lively tonight. Even after being thrown into the world of cowboys, or rodeo circuits, sitting in the honky tonk bar feels as if you’re on another planet. The music thankfully has a nice beat so you enjoy the song playing.

Someone slides in besides you, not even sitting on the bar stool.

“You seem lonely.” The voice of a stranger.

Besides you, a lanky college freshman looking guy leans against the bar staring at you.

“Just waiting for a friend.” You politely answer.

“Well, maybe you’d like some company waiting?”

You’re about to decline when a looming presence arrives at your back.

“Sorry there buckaroo, but this lovely peach is taken for the night.”

Jack’s smooth voice rings out and shocks your system.

The stranger’s face drops comedically fast and the punk scrambles away without another word.

You turn around and it isn't just Jack behind you but Din is as well.

Jack wears his black cowboy hat and you’re surprised to see Din in one as well. He rarely wears his Stetson but it transforms him.

In typical western, the dark midnight cowboy hats are that of the outlaws, the bandits. One of Din’s managers, an older man named Cobb Vanth, once told you that.

And maybe these two are.

Yet, even as bandits, they stand before you like two country romance song dreams. The kaleidoscopic lights dance and radiate off them.

Din mutters your name with hesitation swirling in his eyes.

Panic prickles against your skin. You’re not ready yet.

So you turn to the bartender and order three rounds.

“Honeypie, we gotta talk.” Jack says low, strikingly somber.

Shaking your head, you swallow hard. “Not now. I just…can we just please…just wait for a moment.”

Please let’s just enjoy this false dream a little longer, is what your heart whispers out.

“Of course.” Din mutters and they both move to sit on either side of you, a sort of barricade you’re already missing.

The drinks come and in a nervous quiet move you and the cowboys cling your glasses together. Everyone tosses the shot back. The tequila burns and helps slightly.

You decide if this a goodbye to this dream, you want to at least enjoy it a bit tipsy. So you order another round.

“Careful.” Din urges, ever the cautious one.

“Come on.” You now perk up. “You two both scored high yesterday! We gotta celebrate.”

Which is true. Even with your brewing heartbreak, you still got excited seeing their scores from the app alert. Because that’s the person you’ve become. You have apps on your phone dedicated to rodeo cowboy scores. Well, you might be deleting those apps soon.

You move to take the next shot.

You raise your glass to your two dear cowboys - the ones who you text everyday, the ones you try facetiming as much as you can, your dearest friends.

And maybe that’s all they will be.

You toast to their scores and to them.

Din’s eyes hold a pained shine in them that makes your heart twist. Jack instead wears a rather terrifying steeled up composed face.

You feel empty taking this shot and only Jack throws his back with you. Din even doesn’t touch his drink.

This time the tequila goes down warm and numbing.

The alcohol begins to work its confidence magic in you as you tease Din for not wanting to drink with you. He however glares at you and you’re reminded of an unwavering mesquite tree.

Maybe this is a bad decision.

You can’t be selfish about this. These two found each other. All those moments you thought they had feelings you simply had read the situation wrong.

“Look,” you sigh now, deflated. “I’m sorry-”

Jack suddenly smacks his hand against the bar countertop. It’s aggressively firm, a loud startling whack of a noise.

“Dancin’.” Jack declares loudly. “We’re gonna dance.”

“What? You and him?” You ask over the music.

“No.” Jack snaps. “We’re all goin’. So get your asses up.”

Din scoffs.

Jack, with firm hands yanking on yours and Din’s sleeves, actually drags everyone to the dance floor.

You can’t comprehend what’s happening. The floor is heavily crowded and no one notices three more additions.

“I don’t dance.”

“I can’t dance.”

Both you and Din fling out the same hurried replies to Jack.

He barks a laugh.

“It ain’t about being good at dancin’. S’about feelin’ the music, feelin’ the beat.” He yells back and then instantly transforms into a commanding force.

Sliding behind you, Jack turns you around to face Din.

His and your eyes go wide.

Jack then reaches to yank at Din’s dusty jacket, effectively pulling him forward -

Straight to your front.

Your heart hammers loud in your ears, so loud it drowns out the music blaring.

“Relax.” Jack purrs out. “Just…feel.”

You want to bark back about how that’s easier said than done. But your tongue gets tied up so badly you can’t form words.

Then one of Jack’s solid hands moves to your hips while the other reaches across to rest against Din’s shoulder.

You’re locked into them.

Jack begins to move you slowly.

The music shifts into something sultry, almost aching to be a slow dance, but a lively beat keeps it moving. You didn’t even think country songs could have this kind of vibe. Even though Jack mainly guides your hips, you already start swaying to the beat on your own.

That’s when Jack slowly bumps and nudges his hip against yours, fully pressing you closer to Din.

The position isn’t lost on you. It’s undeniably intimate, overly sexual, and you’re worried how this looks to others in the bar.

Then Din presses forward firmer against you and your mind blanks for a moment. Now sandwiched between a cowboy canyon, a dangerous heat burst from your chest.

Jack moves his nose against your face.

“Relax gorgeous,” he whispers. “Just enjoy.”

Your eyes hazing over flicker to Din who stares out with a deep desire swimming in his eyes. Cautiously his hands now move to rest on your hips. One of them goes on top of Jack’s.

You swallow hard and pray the lingering liquid courage will bless you.

Deliberately, sensually, your hips wiggle and grind between the two of them. You might not be properly dancing right or even swaying to the beat, but desire is the one guiding your body.

Many times nights alone in your bed you've thought of them like this with you. And now, you’re here caught in the sticky heart of that passionate desire.

Din dives forward and presses his face against yours.

Jack groans as his nose buries into your hair. Their cowboy hats create a sort of cover over you casting a shade against the glittering bar lights.

You’re literally under their shadow.

“Oh baby.” Jack whimpers.

Your hands, which you awkwardly kept close to your chest almost afraid to touch this dream and have it pop like a soap bubble, now tingle. You want to touch them both as much as you can.

So one of your hands slides up to hold onto Jack’s face while your other runs up Din’s broad chest to his shoulder. Your hips continue to sway and grind between them.

Then, like a spark ignited, something shifts.

Maybe it’s more people crowding in on the dance floor, or the heat finally bubbling over, but you’re suddenly squished firmly between them, practically glued together. Din’s face, his striking nose, presses against yours while Jack burrows the side of his face against your cheek.

They purposely rut into you. You think this is maybe the closest taste of what it would feel like for them to fuck you and you drown in it.

With Din and Jack, both hard, grinding against your front and back, your eyes close. A debauched sensation sinks its claws into you. It’s sinful and utterly deliriously delicious. You worry you’re about to melt.

Lust rips through you, an incinerating beast, and you bow to it.

In that haze, Din leans down and licks the sweat on your neck. His tongue against your skin, electrifies you. You ascend out of your body and moan.

Your body bucks up hard begging for attention and release only to find you’re still firmly caught between a cowboy canyon.

Jack shushes you firm but low. “G’damn y’all ‘re gonna be the death of me.”

His voice slurs, almost sounded drunk in something dangerous. Din continues licking at your neck not stopping once.

Suddenly Jack moves and shifts your body. The jostling breaks the movement and snaps you aware, like you��re slowly waking up, wearily trying to recapture your focus.

Quickly he snags your hand and Din’s. Out of reflex you clutch onto Din’s jacket. Jack, now a focused man on a mission, guides the three of you out of the crowd.

“Where are we going?” Din mutters against your face.

“Don’t know.” You answer truthfully.

You can’t tell where Jack guides you. The haze still fogging up your focus keeps you surprisingly pliant. It also doesn’t help that Din now practically drapes himself against your back, a protective cowboy like cloak. His lips continue to softly try and kiss any inch of skin he can reach.

You never thought he’d be the greedier one.

Jack guides everyone down a hallway past the restrooms. He even shouts a friendly greeting at someone. Of course he would know people here.

“Get your asses in here.” Jack now growls and his accent seems stronger.

That’s where he opens a door to a small back office type room and barrels everyone inside.

Jack’s not gentle. He almost yanks everyone in like a panicking kid trying to hide something from their parents. The door slams behind him. You’re transported into a badly lit mess of an office.

Jack whips around, pitches forward and before you can react he moves to attack your neck alongside Din.

His tongue licks a possessive strip up to your jaw then starts biting at your skin.

A wild moan escapes you as your eyes blissfully close.

You’re burning up. Your body, now molten, is only held up by your cowboys pressing flat against you. Both Jack’s mustache and Din’s faint beard scrape against your skin beautifully. Two tongues maping out your skin makes your mind evaporate. Every inch of your body screams for them.

That’s when you feel Jack drag his tongue on your neck down towards Din.

With another playful nip at your skin, Jack moves to lick against Din’s mouth still on you.

The wildest moan escapes you and you almost come right then.

Both cowboys almost kiss each other while also trying to still taste at your neck has you absolutely dizzy.

It’s hot and consumes every inch of you. You’re panting ridiculously loud and you can’t even hold back your whines or whimpers anymore. Slick pools between your thighs and sticks to your body. Your neck feels just as wet with the spit covering your skin.

Suddenly a loud aggressive bang rattles the door and your perfect illusion pops.

Panic barrels into you like a wild bull and your eyes go wide.

But your cowboys react fast. Din protectively curls his sturdy arm over you and draws you closer. Jack whips around and stands protectively in front as if to block the view.

Thankfully no one opens the door.

“Ya better not be fuckin’ on my god damn couch, Daniels!” A man howls with laughter.

“No fuckin’ way in hell.” Jack hollers back. “Not when your nasty ol’ ass calls its home.”

From the other side of the door the owner of this room laughs electrically loud. The man smacks on the door twice, an almost playfully goodbye.

The blazing heat that was melting you now simmers out like a fast dying out ember. An awkwardness settles in its place.

Your mind sorts through the heavy doubts again. Were you just a toy for them to play with? And even though a more aggressive side urges you to just enjoy and not think more into this, you don't want to be seen as just an accessory to their duo.

So slowly and quietly you untangle yourself from them.

Din mutters your name slightly confused and Jack turns around looking towards you.

“Where ya headin’ out to, peach?” Jack asks surprisingly composed.

You quietly tell them you’re gonna head home. A thick tension returns, choking the room.

Din calls your name, solid and striking.

“We need to talk.” His words are firm.

You want to make a sarcastic quip that they weren’t much for talking a few moments ago. But you don’t. You want to go home, maybe wash your skin off till you reach bone. You want to wash them away because it’s sinking in.

This last taste of desire is maybe your goodbye.

“Now why ya gotta make it sound like we’re talkin’ about a goddamn funeral, darlin’?!” Jack huffs annoyed.

Din shoots him a sharp annoyed look.

Darlin’

You’ve never heard Jack call his fellow cowboy that.

His nicknames for Din ranged from ‘pigeon’ to ‘sourpuss’ all were affectionately teasing in nature. Now the tender pet name holds the unspoken truth, as if seeing them kissing didn’t solidify it earlier.

“I’m sorry, I just…I read this wrong…” your voice becomes small and deflated. You would head home with a broken pride, but you didn’t want to be bitter about this.

Your eyes flicker up to them.

“You two… I’m glad you both found each other.” You smile weakly, the strongest attempt at being honorable and good. Yet the words turn to ash on your tongue.

You promise you’ll text them when you get home and now turn to leave again.

“The fuck s’that all about?” Jack snarls and his words snap your spine straight.

“Jack.” Din chides him sharp and your attention whips back to them a bit panicked.

Anger, along with the faintest edge of annoyance, colors Jack’s handsome face as he glares at you.

Your face scrunches up confused. What is he so upset about?

“The three of us were practically just humping like fuckin’ barn animals in heat and you wanna say shit like that?” A hot flash runs in Jack’s eye and you swear he even sounds hurt.

“Don’t say it like that.” Din glares.

Your eyes flicker between them and an edge of panic starts crawling on your skin.

“Wait, what?” You mutter out confused.

Silence suffocates the room and it feels like you’ve entered into a classic western standoff waiting to see who will strike first.

“Oh baby,” Jack’s gentle exhale shatters the moment as his eyes stare so directly at you. “Ya haven’t realized it?”

“What?” You squeak out confused.

“We’re crazy for ya… like a bunch of fools tangled up in a damn lasso.”

Jack’s words ignite a flurry of sparks within your chest that knock you breathless.

Turning towards Din, you notice his Stetson hat slid off, possibly during the heat of the moment earlier. But it allows you the clearest view of his gruff face and you think he’s never looked younger. His face is open. Hesitation and worry linger in Din’s dark road eyes reminding you of how secretly tender hearted this cowboy is.

Then Din nods so slowly, agreeing.

You almost choke on an inhale.

The sudden thought of picking between them has a fanged spike of anxiety rushing through you.

You didn’t want to pick. But, were you being selfish because of that?

Sensing your hesitation, or catching whatever emotions now flood your face, both cowboys now hesitantly move towards you.

“Talk to us, please.” Din softly urges.

Your voice cracks, tripping on itself annoyingly conflicted. But you manage to cough out that you don’t think you can pick between them. You don’t think you ever could and you’re worried your heart might not even handle it.

“Oh sweet baby,” Jack breathes out.

Suddenly the back of his hand tenderly strokes your cheek. Din gently glides his hand to your back and softly rubs you soothingly.

Your heart jumps into your throat at their sudden shift in affections.

“You don’t have to worry…or pick.” Din explains softly and with comfort.

Wait.

“You both…” you exhale shakily. “You two want me? Want us?”

For some reason, the notion of ‘us’ strikes you right then and there. That idea of you and them becoming an ‘us’ feels like the most natural progression in your mind.

Your best friend, when you told her about you and these cowboys, had cautiously asked if there was maybe a possibility of a poly type relationship happening. You immediately shot her down, not even wanting to think of the option.

But if you had been honest, a part of you started feeling guilty at the thought of wanting that. You enjoyed spending time with Jack just as much as Din. And you enjoyed spending time with them together.

Now you stand on the new ground of something beautiful waiting for you to step into.

“Sweetheart, hate to break it to ya…but we’ve been an us even before our dumbasses even realized it.” Jack snorts.

Din rolls his eyes and you snicker. But Jack is right.

Tentative date-like nights included Jack joining. Jack constantly invited both you and Din to his ridiculously lavish RV he used for the rodeo road trip days. That eventually led to days where you and Jack waited together for Din to finish. Or Din and you watching Jack practice. Din even began bringing his adoptive son over and Jack took to the baby like a fish to water.

This path you unknowingly had been on now is about to be crystalized before you and it warms every bit of your soul.

But a sharp fanged doubt suddenly gnaws at you.

“Wait,” your voice wavers. “This…this isn’t the alcohol talking right?”

Din sighs, shaking his head no but Jack answers first.

“‘Fraid not gorgeous. Been wanting this for a while.”

All worries get snipped and float out of your body leaving you so limitless.

Din leans to draw you into his side embrace and burrows his face against you.

“Sorry we didn’t discuss this sooner.” He mutters. “It all just…kind of happened.”

You understand and lean back against him. Din exhales shaky, soaked in a relief you can almost feel in your bones.

“Now, now, you two angels can’t go leavin’ out ‘ol Jack.” Of course Jack chimes in.

“Maybe it’s time we rethink this.” Din dryly comments and you laugh when Jack squawks out like a disgruntled crow.

But he effortlessly manages to borrow against both you and Din. It’s a little cluster, a soft clanging of bodies, but it’s cozy and feels right.

Someone yells outside the door laughing and your heart jumps.

“Whose office are we even in?” Din mutters out.

“Jimmy’s. Well technically mine too since I own the bar with him.” Jack casually drops.

Of course he did.

“And as cozy as it is here,” Jack adds gently. Both of their hands now intertwine against your hip.

“I say we move this little party somewhere nicer, like let’s say…my trailer?” Jack offers.

His RV is nice. Din’s is very spartan compared to Jack’s that had a full king sized bed and jacuzzi.

They truly are your sun and moon, so opposite and yet so beautifully brightening up your sky. A beautiful buoyant bliss fills you knowing you’re in their orbit, just as much as they’re in yours.

Din’s baby boy is a fidgety one. While he enjoys running around, he also loves to watch the world form anyone’s welcoming arms.

Which at the moment happens to be yours.

The baby chews happily on his favorite adorable stuffed longhorn plushie while the two of you enjoy the peace of the arena.

Without the noise, the yells and commotion of the crowd, or the sea of cowboy hats, the arena is strangely quiet, almost church-like in its own way. You understand now how it can even inspire a deep devotion.

After all, you see it through the eyes of two cowboys.

The baby happily shrieks and begins twisting in your arms. You turn to see what’s gotten his attention.

“Why howdy there my lil’ tumbleweed!” Jack warmly cries out and without hesitation scoops the sweet little boy into his arms.

The baby squeals in delight as Jack peppers him with kisses. Your heart melts at the sight.

“Don’t worry, didn’t forget about you too darlin’.” Jack winks and leans to kiss you soft now.

His mustache tickles your lips and you smirk. He also playfully and lightly smacks your bottom. You shoot him a look while Jack innocently shrugs.

“Our cowboy come out yet?” He asks.

You shake your head. Not yet. Din being ever the respectful man he is, allowed the others to use the practice bull first and took the last slot available for the practice times.

However, his team and the others arrive just as fast. Din steps out, the true silent assassin he’s regarded as. He’s memorizing to watch, so deeply focused and intense.

The baby now whines at being held and demands to be put down.

“Don’t worry I’ll watch him, you watch Din.” You reassure Jack while he places baby boy on his feet. The baby immediately waddles away, absolutely giddy to be free.

“Lil’ stinker.” Jack affectionately teases with adoration shining in his eyes.

Your eyes now watch the curious little babe you treasure so dearly. Behind you though, the training starts.

The clang of the chute being prepared and the commotion of the team getting ready fills the arena.

Then the alarm blares. The loud noise has the baby jolting in surprise. Before he can cry at the sudden noise, you quickly scurry over and swoop him back in your arms. You playfully press a loud raspberry against his sweet chubby cheeks and he giggles.

The noise of the ride erupts with the thrashing of the bull and the upheaval of the dirt.

Then, it’s all over.

“Attaboy!” Jack cries with a loud proud clap.

The baby, now fully distracted by the commotion, seems happy in your arms again as you approach Jack’s side.

Quickly your gaze goes to the arena to make sure Din’s alright.

“How did he do?” You ask about Din.

“Better! Still ain’t as good as yesterday's time but rides like these just help keep ya warm and flexible.” Jack explains.

With the bull settled, Din moves towards Vanth to discuss the ride.

Din draws his helmet up and already has so much sweat on his face. It’s unfair how handsome he is, rugged and adorably scruffy.

“Bweh!” The baby happily spots his papa and squeaks.

The noise causes all in the ring to turn towards where you three stand. Cobb Vanth grins kindly and Din’s eyes soften immediately spotting your little cheering group.

“Yeah lil cowpoke, you didn’t get to see how good your papa was, but he did great.” Jack coo’s as he softly smooths out the baby’s hair.

With a pat on the back from his manager, Din jogs over to you and Jack.

It’s unique, this new carved out existence of yours with them. But it’s beautiful and feels as if it’s always meant to be, like this has been in your veins long before you even knew.

Din reaches the edge of the ring and you and Jack shower him with praise. It’s adorable watching him get flustered at all the attention given to him, especially when you lean and Jack lean to kiss his cheeks.

“Seems like your ridin’s was a little rusty today though, cowboy.” Jack purrs. “Maybe we should all have a nice private lesson after this.”

“Hope those lessons aren’t with you. Last time you were out by the second count.” Din, like the surprisingly snarky man he is, effortlessly replies back as snatches the baby wiggling trying to for him.

Jack squawks hilariously upset and you snicker as your heart fills to the brim.

The arena is quiet, a sacred space that watches over all of you together like this. And it’s special, having this moment here with both of them.

You think there might not be many country songs about snagging two cowboys, but it’s okay.

You find this song in your heart feels eternal.

#omg first fic of the series AHHH and if you’re reading this know I’m seating you front row to this rodeo thank you forever #let’s rodeo fic series #cowboy din djarin #din djarin x reader #din djarin x f!reader #Jack Daniels x reader #Jack Daniels x f!reader #agent whiskey x reader #Din Djarin x Reader x Jack Daniels #din djarin x you #Jack 🤎 #Din 🩶 #cowboys like us tag

[agentstarkid]

SERENDIPITY ✦ DR3

“Serendipity is an unexpected and very lucky finding, that is, a coincidence that fills us with happiness. Serendipity in love implies the feeling that the universe conspires in our favor, bringing that special person into our lives at the right time and oh boy, did the universe send her everything she ever needed in the form of a 5'10" man with a built-in accent, a love for Tim Tams, adrenaline-fueled spirit and a smile that could light up a whole town.”

✦ pairing: daniel ricciardo x famous!latina!reader

✦ type: social media au

✦ face claim: becky g

✦ warnings: female!reader, covid-19 & quarantine mentions, age gap, language.

✦ pit wall live: HAPPY FRIENDSHIP DAY BESTIES! 🤗💗 I've been working on this for a month, honestly I thought I was gonna finish it fast but tbh that was really naïve of me 🥴 the amount of times I ended up changing almost every little thing is insane lol but today I sat down and commited to finish and post this! this is my first ever smau or any kind of 'x reader' really, so please be kind 🤍 and of course it was going to be about the love of my life!

— oh btw, my idea is to get to present time and make it angsty so let me know what you guys think! I really hope you enjoy!

─── The Joker & The Queen (Masterlist)

JANUARY 01, 2020

yourinstagram and danielricciardo added to their stories!

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danielricciardo has followed yourinstagram!

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yourinstagram

♡ liked by anitta, danielricciardo and 6,546,214 others

yourinstagram 2019 was full of happiness, pain, healing and growth. I loved a lot, I cried a lot and I laughed a lot. I'm grateful for a lot of things in life, but I'm specially grateful for you guys ❤️🥂 I LOVE YOU! ❤️

tagged: selenagomez, fioamato, iamdannaschwarz, itsvittoriasousa

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fioamato It's out with the old and in with the new ⏭️😜

iamdannaschwarz this could be the start of something new indeed 😏🤭 yourinstagram 🙈 user yourinstagram girlieee does this mean you found your Troy Bolton tonight? 👀👀👀

iamdannaschwarz what a year it has been! Through the ups and downs you prevailed. So proud of you! Cheers, amiga! 🥂❤️

itsvittoriasousa u deserve the whole world, i wish everyone knew ur heart 🥺 love you biiiiiiig ❤️

user1 can we talk about that dress!!!! jaw dropped 🤯

user2 Mami 🔥🔥🔥

selenagomez ❤️🥂🎆

user3 danny ric you ain't slick baby we can see u 👀

user4 words on the streets that they were seen pretty close the whole night 👀

user5 girlies do we think the writing on the napkin belongs to mr. ricciardo? 🧐

user4 what about the last pic?? could it be about a nod to him???

user3 somebody call the fbi and the cia we need to decode this 🔎🔎🔎

sebastianyatra una locura de año 🚀 happy new year penguin!

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JANUARY 25, 2020

justjared

♡ 9.075 Likes

justjared New couple alert?! YN LN, 21, and Formula 1 driver Daniel Ricciardo, 30, were spotted on a walk and getting cozy during a night out in New York. More photos now on JustJared.com #YNLN #Daniel Ricciardo Photos: Backgrid

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user1: well that's a couple nobody saw coming 😶 good for them tho

user2: These pictures are so creepy as to get these they literally have to stalk these people and are probably hiding in bushes or wherever to get the shots

user3: he's a full-grown man in his 30s messing around with a teenager how shocking 🙄

user4: how is she a teenager if she's 21??? she is a consenting adult and has been for a while...make it make sense user5: it's a 9-year age gap not 25 😑 y'all should learn to mind your own fucking business

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FEBRUARY 05, 2020

danielricciardo added to their story!

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yourinstagram added to their story!

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yourinstagram

♡ liked by danielricciardo, greeicy and 7,452,325 others

yourinstagram starry nights, sunsets, little moments, deep conversations & special feelings 💖🃏

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iamdannaschwarz pov: you were there to witness the first conversation 🤣

itsvittoriasousa never knew a person could blush that hard 😂 yourintagram you are both getting blocked 🙅‍♀️

fioamato 🃏🃏🃏

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michaelitaliano and scottyjames31 have followed yourinstagram!

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MARCH 11 & 12, 2020

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yourinstagram has added to their story!

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APRIL 09, 2020

yourinstagram

♡ liked by danielricciardo, jbalvin and 5,723,498 others

yourinstagram Quarantine with an aussie boyfriend: turns out, 'G'day mate' is the only greeting you'll ever need. Who needs handshakes anyway? Also, you get to excessively use the word 'mate' without being judged. It's basically a linguistic free pass 🤷🏽‍♀️😂🇦🇺

View all 22,395 comments

user: OMG OMG IT'S FUCKING HAPPENING!!!! EVERYBODY STAY CALM!!!

user: Dan-Y/N nation how we feeling today? 😍

user: wasn't she dating sebastianyatra tho?

user2: nah they've been friends for years

user3: «cristina» is lowkey about her tho 🤭 "you were 19, i was 23"?? and there's a 4 year age gap between them?? they deffff had something going on a few years back AT LEAST 👀

user2: who knows maybe they did, but they refer to each other as "like-a-brother" and "like-a-sister" so as far as we know they are only best friends 🤷🏽‍♀️

fioamato what do you say titi yourmomsinstagram does it get the seal of approval?

yourmomsinstagram 🤔🤔🤔 yourinstagram she face-timed me and told me to pass the phone so she could talk to him. They talked for an hour. They are besties now, she's just trying to play hard-to-get 🙃

danielricciardo and 5,345 other liked it

fioamato 😂😂😂

jbalvin encantado de verte feliz hermanita ❤️

danielricciardo tell your boyfriend he's really lucky 🤙🏼

yourinstagram thanks will do, mate 🤙🏼

user OMG??? you guys are so unserious 😭

user2 MOM??? DAD???

user3 danielricciardo yourinstagram i'm glowing, flourishing and thriving 🥰😭

michaelitaliano shitty accent though

yourinstagram I love my haters ❤️ you guys are my motivators ☺️ btw don't you have a kangaroo to fight?

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APRIL 29, 2020

yourinstagram

♡ liked by michaelitaliano, danielricciardo, lewishamilton and 6,498,498 others

yourinstagram Spanglish country…we’re doing it!! Watch kanebrown_music and I blend sounds, languages and dance moves in #LostInTheMiddleOfNowhere (Spanish Remix) 😜 song and video OUT NOW 🔥

View all 11,598 comments

iamcardib OKAAAY MAMAAA 🧊🧊🥶

lali ALTA DIOSA 🔥

user she 👏 never 👏 misses 👏

itsvittoriasousa BRO U ABSOLUTELY ATEEE

user jaw drops to floor eyes pop out of sockets hearts out of chest 😍

danielricciardo wow caliente 🔥

user the amount of unwell I am in this exact moment

user2 daniel is right. muy caliente 🥵

user3 i'm losing my mind over 2 words + emoji okay

user4 daniel stop being a cunt and make an appearence in one of Y/N's ig lives

user5 user4 you could totally hear his voice in the last one lmao

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MAY 03, 2020

danielricciardo

♡ liked by pierregasly, jensonbutton, iamdannaschwarz and 710,610 others

danielricciardo Just a bunch of life 🤠🚜🇦🇺🇺🇸

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yourinstagram awesome taste in music mate 👍🏼

danielricciardo big fan of hers 👍🏼 love finding new underground artists ☺️ user imagine calling THE yourinstagram an "underground artist" lmaooo user2 they're both such little shits i love them your honor 😭

kristenanniebell ❤️❤️❤️

scottyjames31 I see you're in good company mate

corey_wilson goodness I miss the ranch so much

user daniel said lemme give you thirsty bitches a few droplets of water

user2 there's so much to unpack here omfg

iamdannaschwarz you're welcome 😌 also there's a no-return policy in the contract ok bye

fioamato you're welcome 😌 x2 itsvittoriasousa you're welcome 😌 x3 danielricciardo nah i think i'm gonna keep it for a long while thanks. i'll rate you guys with 5 stars 👍🏼

user3 THE LETTER ON THE LAST PHOTO ???? I'M SENDING Y'ALL MY THERAPY BILLS

user4 THE MATCHING RINGS PLEASE!!!!!!! 😭😭😭

user5 all this soft launch shit is killing me guys help somebody let them know that we already know so they can stop playing!!!

yourinstagram but where's the fun in that babes? 😌 user holy shittttt!!!! y/n ???? i- 🤯 user5 OH MY GOD!!!! HI MOTHER AJKFFLAHDASD user2 it's a fucking confirmation!!!! dan-y/n nation we got it!!! it's crumbs but we got it!!!!!

user6 we stan a suportive bf ☝️🤩

user7 999 for grammy's best album of the year ✨manifesting✨

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─── Please don't forget to reblog & comment! ♡

#daniel ricciardo x reader #daniel ricciardo x you #latina!reader #famous!reader #daniel ricciardo imagine #daniel ricciardo social media au #daniel ricciardo instagram au #f1 x reader #f1 social media au #( agentstarkid's works )

[jaidens]

hi! could you write something where daniel larusso is at soccer practice & his girlfriend is there watching him, and then afterwards when practice is done, they sneak off under the bleachers and talk & hold hands and kiss? y'know, just typical high school stuff 🫶🏻 thank you!

You've Got A Smile That Can Light Up This Whole Town — Daniel Larusso

pairing [s] : daniel larusso x reader

warning [s] : none

a/n [s] : thank YOU for the request! I hope this fulfills what you asked.

You sat on the bleachers, doing your homework two classes before. The hot sun beams down on you as you stare at Daniel. In all of his glory, he passed the ball through the green grass on the field. His coach is yelling at the team to “get themselves together” because they had choked the scrimmage.

The coach says they're off for the day and you see him running his sweaty hair back. Daniel picks up his stuff from the ground, takes his water bottle out, and takes a chug from it. You hear his Long Island accent ring out as he talks to one of his teammates, Josh. You were never quite fond of his team, as some of them had messed with your best friend.

A couple minutes later you finished your homework and put it in your backpack. You continued staring at Daniel. It was hard not to. His gorgeous tan skin was shining in the sun. He was slightly sweaty, shaking out his dark-brown hair. Daniel walked around the bleachers and up the stairs, carrying his soccer bag. You smile at him as he drops his bag next to yours and sits down. “Hey, Danny! How was the practice? You smell like sweat.” You teased and he put his arm around your shoulders. “Hey there.. the practice was good. Coach just will not get off of us over a scrimmage.” He says groaning.

“So dramatic aren't you? Wanna go under the bleachers? This heat is killing me.” You say, picking up your backpack and standing up. “And I'm the dramatic one?” Daniel says, grabbing his stuff and following you as you race down the stairs and to under the metal bleachers.

There's a couple people, mostly you and Daniel’s friends that are relaxing. You wave at your friend from chemistry and she smiles at you, just before her obnoxious boyfriend starts eating her mouth again. You make sure there are no teachers and pull Danny’s hand to get him closer to you. It provided a secret hiding place for you and Daniel to spend time together.

Daniel takes his jacket from his bag and puts it on the ground for you two to sit on. “Such a gentleman aren't you?" You said, grabbing his jersey to pull him down to the ground with you. He pulls out a couple of snacks his Mother packs for him whenever he has practiced. It's an assortment of finger food, crackers, and pretzels.

“How was class?” Daniel asks eventually, swinging his arms around your shoulders once more pulling you into his side. You remember, one day, his mother said you fit together like puzzle pieces and you almost cried. He was your best love, the sweetest and most caring boy ever who was completely fearless. “It was good. Mr. Johnson was yelling at this girl today and it was so hilarious.” Daniel laughs along with you as he stares at you while you speak about other classes you've had today.

Daniel was always a romantic after being raised extremely well by Lucille. He would never let you open a door if he was there, even if it was your bedroom door. The way he wrote notes for you and hid them in your books for every class. You always wondered how you were able to catch him. The star of the soccer team and the star of the Miyagi-Do Karate dojo. Even if he was the only one in the dojo.

“How was your day Danny? How was class?” You ask, taking another handful of snacks to eat. He starts talking about an annoying teacher, and a random thing that happened with Johnny. You can't help but admire him, the way he always has a small smile on his face when he explains stuff. His nose squeezes together whenever he eats a super salty pretzel but he continues explaining.

“Are you even listening baby?” Daniel says a few seconds later, after seeing (what he calls it) “your head in the clouds look”. You shake your head out of your daydream. “No! No, I'm listening. You were talking about Ashley Henderson!” You spout out, not sure if you were exactly right. You lay further on his shoulder and you smell his cologne. “Yeah alright." Danny’s Long Island was thicker whenever he was slightly tired. After practice, he would be almost unintelligible as you heard the way his words would stick together.

“Y’know. My Ma asked if you wanted to come over for dinner tonight. We're having her famous lasagna I think. My Nonna taught it to her.” Daniel asks, running his fingers down your spine, something he did unconsciously whenever you laid on him.

You sat up slightly, looking up at his baby browns and his jaw. He has a small scar on the edge of his face from falling when he was younger. You always liked to kiss over it whenever you were alone. Secretly, Daniel loved it too. You let your lips fall on the scar, giving a small peck onto it. "Yeah, I'll come. Lucille always makes the best food. She could serve me mud and grass and I think I would still eat it.

“She does make pretty good food doesn't she?” He says, giving you a small smirk before holding his hand out for you to take. It was something he did after he got punched in the lip and you said he couldn't talk just in case he'd hurt his lip and to “hold out your hand if you want me to hold it.” You grabbed his hand and interlocked your fingers together with his. He smiled at you before leaning close to your face.

You connect your lips with his, giving a slow kiss to him. Daniel slowly reaches his hand to your face, holding it as you continue kissing. Some of Danny's teammates walk up behind him and smack his shoulders before saying, “Get some!” You had to pull away to laugh as he turned away embarrassed.

“Your teammates are crazy Danny.” You say, pointing out the obvious as Daniel runs his hand down your arm. “Yeah I know. I gotta’ play with them baby.” He says sarcastically throwing his head to the side. You laugh at him as he readjusts his hips, slowly pushing them up to fix his back.

You grin as you lay back down on his shoulder. After it got hurt during the karate tournament, you were always careful about putting too much pressure on it. Daniel told you it was fine, but you were still worried. Danny stares up at the clock that sat outside and looks back at you. “We have five minutes until our next class. What do you wanna do for the rest? Jus’ relax or am I thinking what you're thinking..?”

You push yourself up off the ground and stare into Daniel’s eyes. After dating Daniel for a year, you always notice his eyes have a sense of mischievousness in them. Lucille would always point it out too, how whenever he would look at something, there would always be a look in his eyes daring himself to do something.

"Oh, Daniel! No… I'm gonna get to class before I'm late. You know I have Mr. Thompson." You said, gently slapping his shoulder. He always knows you're joking, but you see him pretend to be upset and pout his lip out. You grab your backpack off the ground and his jacket. He grabs your arm and pulls you into a hug. "Hey, I'll see you later," Daniel says. You smile before hugging him again and kissing his cheek before walking off to your class. He waves you off, staring at you and you walk away.

#daniel larusso x reader #young daniel larusso x reader #daniel larusso #karate kid 1986 #karate kid 1984 #karate kid 1989 #karate kid fanfiction #ralph macchio #ralph macchio x reader #daniel larusso fluff #karate kid fluff #danielarussooask #karate kid x reader #daniel larusso x you #daniel larusso x y/n #karate kid imagine #daniel larusso imagine

[quickiesgirl]

Alone at Last - Joel Miller

Paring: Joel Miller x Fem!Reader

Warning: 18+, Smut, Dom/Sub, Vaginal Fingering, Praise Kink, Established Relationship, My Shitty Writing.

A/N: It's been a hot minute since I posted my last fic, but while writing requests I thought I'd make this little fic because I'm so in love with Joel rn. <3

 “Mind pouring me a glass, cowboy?” You asked from a distance, gazing into the living room at Joel, who sat on the couch, awaiting your arrival with an open bottle of Jack Daniels.

It was a housewarming present from his brother, welcoming you into the community of Jackson, Wyoming, where you and Joel decided to settle down with Ellie. 

“Sure thing, sweetheart.” Joel’s low southern accent melts like honey as it flows through your ears. You’ll never get used to those initial butterflies you feel when he speaks. 

He swallows back the dark liquor and grabs the bottle on the coffee table, pouring you a fine glass of Tennessee whiskey. His chocolate brown eyes narrow on your body, ogling the way your hips sway in those tight, blue jeans as you walk over to him. 

The tips of your fingers pulled the glass out of his hand before plopping down beside him, feeling his arm wrap around your shoulders and pull you in close, allowing you to snuggle comfortably into his side. 

You hadn’t had a drop of whiskey since you were in the Boston QZ, which felt like years ago. You savored every sip of the aged liquor. Smooth with the flavor of oak and vanilla on your tastebuds. For being one of the last sold bottles, weeks before the outbreak, it was still delicious. 

You rest your hand upon his thigh and take this opportunity to admire your lover. Especially the sexy salt and pepper look sprinkled in his messy hair and scruffy beard, and those adorable lines creasing by his eyes as a smile spreads across his plush lips before taking another sip.

The sight of Joel made your hips shift against the cushion and your thighs feverishly clench together. An action he can’t help but notice. 

 “You know, Ellie’s asleep in her room...” You say with that yearnful, needy gaze, Joel knew all too well. He couldn’t tell you the countless times you’ve given him that look, then the next minute, you were being pounded with his hand over your mouth, trying to keep you quiet. 

“Oh, yeah?” His brows raise knowingly, watching you smirk as your hand moves further up his thigh. “Mm huh, and I think you know what that means.” 

“Oh, I bet I do, sweetheart,” Joel mutters, leaning in slowly and meeting his soft lips to yours. You carefully set the glasses aside and lay your hands against his clothed chest, fingers gripping at the fabric material of his button-up. Warmth consumes your body as you hungrily push deeper into the intimate kiss. 

“C’mere, honey.” His thick, calloused hand pats his upper thigh and offers you a seat, which you immediately take, grabbing ahold of his shoulders and straddling his lap. 

Joel’s warm breath tickles your inner neck as he moves in close and suckles your sweet spots between hot, sensual kisses while undoing the buttons of your flannel shirt till your tits are exposed. 

“Fuck, baby.” He sighs, hands gliding along your body and up your curves, caressing your soft, supple skin, sending shivers of lust down your spine. His hands reach up, cupping your bare breasts in either hand and massaging them gently, feeling your nipples harden against his cool skin. 

Your fingers run through his hair, gently tugging as you roll your hips into the prominent bulge beneath you, putting pressure upon your labia, attempting to relieve the ache between your thighs. You bite at your bottom lip, shutting up all the needy whimpers you wanted to let out at that moment to not wake Ellie. 

 “I’m gonna make this sweet, little pussy feel so damn good,” Joel whispers in your ear, feeling the heat radiating off your clothed cunt against his thigh as he reaches down and pulls at the zipper of your jeans. 

A shiver shoots through your body, watching him slip into the waistband of your pretty black panties and begin gliding his fingers through your lips.

“Shit, baby, you’re so fucking wet.” He groans, circling your entrance with his calloused fingertips before slipping two digits into your tight pussy. 

Your bottom lip parts from your top, and a pretty pornographic moan escapes your mouth. Joel's fingers are much thicker than your own, becoming coated with your juices as they slide along your inner walls, and swirl themselves in a clockwise motion. 

Keeping that rhythm for a moment before his strong fingers curl forward against the rough patch of your upper wall, simulating your g-spot, making your hips buck at the sensation, your bushy mound filling the palm of his hand. 

“Oh, J-Joel-” You moan breathily, a coil tightening in your stomach and pussy gripping around him. All your nerves suddenly set to fire as your mind enters a lustful haze, only able to focus on the intense pleasure coursing through your veins. 

 Joel's heavy cock strains against the rough material of his jeans, and eyes dance over every inch of your body, like how your bosom was heaving in that thin flannel and how your thighs practically vibrated around his. The sound of your wet pussy and sweet moans was music to your ears. 

“That’s it, baby, you’re takin’ me so well~” 

Your eyes roll to the back of your head, moaning loudly as his thumb moves up and makes lazy circles around your swollen clit, which throbbed beneath the pad of his thumb. Your walls contract around him. The tension grew greater, ready to snap at any second. “J-Joel, I’m so close!”  

“C’mon, sweetheart, cum all over my fingers.” 

That was all you needed to hear to send you crying out in pleasure, orgasmic shockwaves gripping your body as your toes curl in your heavy boots and thighs shudder til they are weak. 

Arousal gushes across his thick fingers, whispering sweet praises in your ear, working you through your powerful orgasm before you’re so sensitive and dazed that your head lulls forward, resting upon his shoulder. 

-

A smile spreads across your lips as you feel your lover's fingers remove themselves from your fluttering cunt, and instead slip them into his mouth, suckling off your sweet juices. 

You press a couple of kisses along his scruffy jawline and snake your hand down, palming the large, protruding tent in his pants. Joel moans softly, messy hair pressing into the wall behind him as his dick twitches in your grasp. 

You shift off his lap and kneel between his spread legs, eyes gazing up into his so sensually as you begin undoing his jeans, “Let me take care of you.” 

Taglist Form | Message if you want to be removed <3

#joel miller #joel miller smut #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x reader #joel miller x y/n #joel miller x you #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller hbo #joel miller series #joel miller pedro pascal #ellie williams #ellie williams bella ramsey #the last of us x reader #the last of us fanfiction #the last of us hbo #the last of us #quickiesgirl writing

[lowkeyrobin]

you asked for tommy request here you go pookie!! 🦕

okay so the whole tommy hates american things, he meets reader online and they dont say where theyre from but boom babey theyre american

but but double whammy they have a very strong southern accent and tommy doesnt understand a word they say

bro straight up just like sits there, chin in hand, admiring reader while they go off but he cant understand a damn thing

top comedy right there imo

okay 🦕 I think you might be a southerner... TRUMP 2024 MAKE AMERICA GREAT AGAIN!!! 💥💥💥💥 /j

TOMMYINNIT ; southern accent

summary ; you use a voice changer and change your voice with ease, but reveal your accent when you meet him in real life

warnings ; language, American & British stereotypes ig

genre ; fluff

word count ; 856

masterlist

Tommy had this whole bit about hating Americans, which you played into, successfully by never revealing where you were actually from. In honesty, you had a pretty obvious southern accent, but were usually able to hide it or use a voice changer, since you wanted to save the reveal for a meetup in real life.

Somehow, you were able to hide this for nearly five years, tricking Tommy. Although you'd let some friends in on it, and the very early wave of fans as well, most of which probably don't even watch you anymore. But, now you were finally meeting him in the UK.

You obviously would've come much sooner, but life had caught up with you and you went on a half-year hiatus and got busy with school duties around 2021-2022. But, finally, in early 2024, you were finally able to work out a solid two weeks to go to the United Kingdom and meet the blonde after all these years.

No one told you how scary airplanes were, though. Yikes on bikes.

-ˋˏ ༻❁༺ ˎˊ-ˋˏ ༻❁༺ ˎˊ-ˋˏ ༻❁༺ ˎˊ-

Meeting him was a dream come true, out near the water where you met at the pier, your luggage still with you because it was a solid twenty minute walk to your hotel. The salty sea air brushing against your face, his face, his whole presence in general, the vlog camera with him.

You instantly wrap him in a hug when you see him, and he does the same, lifting you off the ground a bit. You yelp as you feel it and he carefully sets you down, a wide smile on his face. You decide to hide the accent for now, covering it up just for now.

He invites you down to a little library not too far away, wanting you to be able to drop your stuff off safely and go eat, considering you both needed food. You agree and begin making the walk towards your hotel using Google Maps, taking in the scenery and new culture you'd been surrounded with.

In no time, you're at the library, sitting in the back with wraps in your hands, talking and relaxing in the empty music corner away from other patrons.

"No, and the lady in front of me starts making a fuss, and the other girl said "Don't make me turn into Danielle Bregoli!", Ma'am, what??"

"What?" He laughs, almost spitting out some of his food as he covers his mouth.

"Like I'll go get a fucking cowboy hat, put it on, and it'll probably scare you away!" You say, purposefully letting your accent slip out through your lips, giggling in the process.

The blonde blinks rapidly, trying to figure out what you said. "Sorry, what?"

You quickly clasp a hand over your mouth and smile, your words muffled as you spoke. "I'm from America, Tommy. I have a natural southern accent" You laugh, "I've been just covering it up and using a voice changer all these years"

"Just when I thought you reached the lowest of lows!" He smiles, playing into the joke, "I have no idea what you're saying"

"You can't understand my redneck ways? You fuckin' democrats... Trump 2024!!"

Tommy takes a moment, still unable to understand your accent, just listening to you talk. He has his chin in his free hand, watching you use your hands to speak while you smile and giggle, playing into the Americans versus British joke.

He genuinely can't understand a word you're saying, but he finds it adorable in a way. This is the way you really spoke, and you were comfortable enough to do it with him, and he honestly found it funny as well. He sets his wrap down on top of the paper bag it came in, running a hand through his hair as he stares at you with loving eyes.

You drifted the conversation from biscuit-eating-Brits and the American economy and lack of human rights back to stories about the airport and airplane trip to him, having a dozen stories to tell. It was a nightmare, really.

"No, I never knew how fucking expensive airport food is! I should've eaten before going, I thought it would've been more convenient to eat there, but no, apparently not. And some guy at the salad bar at the airport kept staring at me all weird for no reason. Like, you're jealous, I know, but doesn't excuse staring, my guy"

Tommy smiles and giggles, barely able to understand you. He uses his internal dictionary to unravel some words, but not all that much. He finds it ironic how you can always decode his British slang but he can't understand a word you're saying in the moment, but he feels a sort of serenity in it.

A wave of dopamine crashes against the shore of his brain, causing him to giggle as you make a little explosion sound and use your hands to imitate the boom. You see him smiling and giggling, assuming he can completely understand you.

Rule one of TommyInnit, teach him southern accent before meeting him, he has zero idea what you're saying.

#lowkeyrobin #mcyt x reader #mcyt preferences #mcyt oneshot #tommyinnit x reader #mcyt x gn reader #tommyinnit oneshot #tommyinnit

[drvirgus]

The Idol who Cant Smile

Minji X fem! Reader

Description: You are the oldest Member of New Jeans, but Fans Never saw you Smile once. Why don't you Smile? Who's the Person that can bring back a smile to your Face?

Chapter 1:

"Can you smile too?" asked the cameraman as he peered through the lens of the camera. But when I didn't comply with his instructions, he let the camera drop slightly and looked at me. His forehead furrowed in confusion. I offered a slight bow as an apology. "I'm sorry. I won't smile," I replied politely. The older man hesitated for a few seconds.

"Not even a little one?" he asked, adjusting the camera again. He waited for some movement from me. I forced a small, barely noticeable smile. However, he only took one photo before removing the camera again. He sighed, "No, no. It's okay. Your serious face has something special too. Go back to looking normal," he said. I immediately did as he asked.

It didn't take too long for all the photos to be taken. I bowed once again and stepped aside. My manager handed me an already open bottle of water. "Thank you," I said, taking a sip from the bottle.

But my attention was quickly drawn to the fashion designer, who was approaching me with a wide smile. I hadn't been the Ambassador of the Tommy Hilfiger brand for very long, so I wasn't here often. Nevertheless, it seemed that the elderly man had taken a liking to me.

Mr. Hilfiger opened his arms to embrace me, and I returned the embrace. His hand gently brushed over my hair as he smiled kindly at me. "I'm glad to see you here, my child," he said, looking me straight in the eyes after letting me go. He chuckled softly, "You promised me last time that you'd teach me the new choreography," he said.

I blinked several times and nodded my head. "Let's get started then," I said. I proceeded to show him the short choreography for our song "Super Shy." After several attempts, he got the hang of it. He laughed joyfully, causing my face to relax completely.

With a smile, he led me to the glass door, continuing to ask me questions. Just before we parted ways, he handed me a bag and smiled at me. I bowed in thanks, which only made him laugh. With a smile, he said that I could always reach out to him if I needed anything.

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Sighing, I took a sip from my beer. I was currently at a restaurant with my fellow members, and of course, everything was being filmed. Since the others weren't yet 21 years old, they couldn't order alcoholic drinks here in America. Haerin stared at me with her cat-like eyes. Thanks to her, I knew what it was like to have a little sister who always stared at you.

I remained mostly silent as the others engaged in conversation. They kept laughing throughout the meal. When I finished my food, or rather, when I was full, I pushed my plate towards Hyein, who had previously mentioned that she was still hungry.

With a wide grin, she looked at me. "Thank you, Unnie," she said, sweet as sugar. I nodded my head, a small smile forming on my face. I didn't smile. Honestly, I didn't even know why or when it started... Eventually, I just couldn't smile anymore, no matter how happy I felt.

Hanni had teased me about it often. She would pull up my cheeks to make my mouth form a smile. Even though I was older than her! But I didn't mind. I also didn't really like being called "Unnie" when the age difference wasn't too big. But in front of the camera, they all had to call me that.

"No, no. I've told you before. None of the books say that dinosaurs were the first animals in the world," Danielle said. She waved her fork around as she spoke in her Australian-accented English. Hanni sighed in response and shook her head.

Haerin continued to stare at me. I looked at her. "Don't look at me like that. You're not getting a sip," I said as I picked up my beer again to take a drink. Haerin, however, continued to stare, which was starting to frustrate me. Minji, right next to me, chuckled softly. She nudged me gently with her elbow and smiled at me.

"She doesn't want a sip. She's just looking at you," Minji laughed, looking at me. I turned my head to Minji. "I know. She should stop," I said, which only made Minji laugh more. She then turned her head back to Haerin. "Stop looking like that. You're making Y/N Unnie nervous," Minji playfully scolded, causing me to roll my eyes.

Finished with my beer, I rested my head on my hand and looked at each of my members. I focused on the conversation between Danielle and Hanni, with Minji chiming in occasionally. Hanni and Danielle seemed almost like they were arguing. But I let them. They were just having a conversation.

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Now we were in the living room of our 4-room apartment. We all stared at the phones in front of us as we were doing a live broadcast together. Hanni had her own phone too and played the live broadcast on silent so she could read the comments more easily. Hanni looked up suddenly and grinned mischievously.

With a swift motion, she wrapped her arms around my neck, and her lips pressed onto my cheek. But, to be honest, I didn't mind. I just stayed quiet and looked at the camera. Hyein laughed at this. "Is Hany/n sailing?" Danielle asked, laughing into the camera.

"What's this all about?" I asked as I looked at Hanni. She just grinned widely. "There was a comment asking me to kiss you," she replied, and I nodded in understanding. Haerin stared into the camera, her eyes moving as she read the comments. I turned my head back to the camera. My arms were around Danielle, who had her hands on my arms, playing with them.

Eventually, Danielle was sitting right in front of me on the floor. Hanni sat next to me, and Minji was next to her. The younger members were all seated on the floor as well.

"Y/N... a fan asked why you never smile," Haerin asked, turning her head to me. Her eyes also looked quite curious. Even Danielle and Hanni had stopped nudging each other. Now everyone was looking at me curiously. None of them had ever asked me. Somehow... they seemed afraid of what my answer might be.

I looked at the camera. "I don't want to give you a fake smile. I smile when... I do," I replied, nodding my head. I quickly licked my lips. "I'm sorry if I come across as distant because of that," I added, slightly bowing. Danielle leaned against me even more. She tilted her head back until her head touched my knees. She looked at me and immediately smiled encouragingly.

"That was well said. Unnie doesn't want to give us a fake smile, isn't that sweet?" Hyein said, laughing. But Minji had been looking at me the whole time. Her lips were pressed together. Hanni, however, interrupted Minji's gaze as she leaned forward. Minji then looked at the camera and smiled broadly. "But that doesn't mean Unnie doesn't love us or you. She shows it through her gestures," Minji added, and Haerin immediately looked at Minji.

Hanni laughed. "Oh, yes. Remember when Hyein was sick? Unnie acted like Hyein was on her deathbed," Hanni said, laughing, causing the others to laugh too. Almost immediately, everyone recounted a situation where I had taken care of them. But I just looked at the person who was speaking. Slightly embarrassed, I quickly looked away.

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

My forehead furrowed. In my hand was the angrily looking panda plush toy. I looked at the fan who gave it to me. She chuckled slightly, embarrassed, as she scratched her cheek. "I immediately thought of you when I saw it in the store," she said, and I nodded in understanding. I examined the panda closely.

"Thank you. That's really sweet, and somehow it fits me perfectly. But next time, don't give me anything. I don't want you to spend your hard-earned money on me. But... thank you. I really appreciate it," I said. The woman looked at me with wide eyes, and her smile widened even more.

"What's your name?" I asked as I set the panda on my lap. Almost immediately, my manager wanted to take it from me, which I declined with a furrowed brow. I looked back at my fan as I picked up the pen. "Kim Chaesoo," she replied, and I nodded. I quickly left a small message for her and signed it immediately.

I handed it over to her, and she practically burst with joy. "Thank you for coming. Hopefully, I'll see you next time?" I asked, and she nodded vigorously. Her cheeks even turned pink. She walked away from me afterward. My eyes then turned to the others.

Many gifts were on the table, while I only received 1. But I didn't mind at all. Unlike the others, I didn't have as many fans. But that didn't bother me. The fans I did have seemed to genuinely like me with all their hearts, and that was enough for me.

Maybe... should I smile? Would it make the others happy? But... I haven't smiled for years. More than a smirk... I just couldn't manage it. My face would always tense up when I tried to smile. Even when I laughed, I had the habit of covering my mouth with my hand.

The reason? Only one came to mind...

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

Yuna (18:21): Come to the JYP building. Let's have a drink!!!

My eyebrows raised as I read the message on my phone. I was sitting on the couch in our apartment. Hanni, who was right next to me, looked at my phone and then at me. "Minjiiiii," she exclaimed. My mouth opened, and I immediately placed my hand over her mouth to make her stop tattling.

Unfortunately, Minji had already heard her. She came into the living room with a drying cloth, apparently just finishing washing dishes and drying her hands. "What's going on?" she asked, furrowing her brow as she looked at me holding Hanni's mouth shut. Minji's forehead furrowed, and she looked between me and Hanni.

"Unnie," Minji said, so I looked at her. She smiled. "Let go of Hanni," she requested, and I hesitated slightly. After a sigh, I released Hanni. I stood up and grabbed my phone, which had fallen onto the floor.

Yuna (18:23): Lia and I miss you a lot

My breath caught as I read the message that just lit up on my phone. I felt my face heat up. I cleared my throat. "Unnie wants to go to the JYP building to have drinks with Itzy," Hanni said, pointing at me. Angrily, I looked at Hanni. "Tattletale!" I exclaimed. Hanni laughed and stuck her tongue out at me.

"But you wanted to go alone. I want to know why... you'd rather be with th- Why you always go to them," Hanni said. She crossed her arms over her chest. Surprised, my eyebrows raised. I looked at the younger girl. "Do you... want to come?" I asked, and immediately, Hanni jumped up. "I'll change real quick!" she said, heading to the bedroom.

My eyes fell on Minji, who was just looking at me. I blinked. "Do you... want to come too?" I asked, and Minji smiled. "No, thank you. Someone should at least keep an eye on the three of them," the dark-haired girl said. Almost immediately, my forehead furrowed. I shook my head. "Just as I don't treat you like a baby, you shouldn't treat the others like that either," I replied, and Minji snorted while laughing.

She approached me with a light laugh. My eyes traveled upwards as she was much taller than me. Unfortunately, I was the oldest, but still the smallest. I was even shorter than Hanni! Only by 1 centimeter, but still...

"You're my biggest baby," she said, almost breathlessly. My eyes widened as I saw her grin. My mouth opened, but no sound came out. Shortly after, I felt the drying cloth on my face as she had placed it over my head. When I removed it, I noticed Minji looking to the side.

Surprised, I simply stared at her with my mouth agape. "I-I'm not a baby," I replied, furrowing my brow. Minji laughed softly. She took the drying cloth again. She smiled at me. "Have fun, Unnie," the taller girl said and took a few steps away from me. She went back into the kitchen.

Hanni came out of the bedroom, completely changed. "We can go," she said with a wide grin. I nodded my head. I looked into the kitchen for a moment, noticing Minji continuing to wash dishes. Then we left the apartment, with Hanni right beside me.

"But you won't drink," I warned, and Hanni immediately looked at me. "I'm 19," she replied, and my eyebrows raised. "Not yet. Only in October," I replied, and Hanni immediately put on her puppy eyes. She pouted. "Come on. The Korean age still applies," Hanni argued. My eyes narrowed as I sighed.

"But not too much!" I said, and Hanni was immediately pleased. We celebrated my birthday in America, where I turned 21. It was still May 4th, to be exact. Minji's birthday was coming up soon...

What should I get her as a gift?

#newjeans #newjeans minji #danielle #newjeans x reader #haerin #newjeans hanni #newjeans hyein #hanni pham #minji x reader

[baraadmirer]

Content warning: contains an instance of felching and incestuous undertones.

"So, Nico, you can't even handle taking money from old man Smith? Pathetic." I look up and can't move. I've been tied to a wooden chair as the boss' son glares down at me, his barrel chest almost blocking out the only lamp hanging from the basement ceiling.

"Daniel, please, I—" I start, but he interrupts me.

"You're making me look bad, Nico. I don't like disappointing my father." He raises his leg and puts his shoe on the chair, just above my shoulder before pushing it, sending it and me crashing to the ground. He walks around to me. "I might as well get something out of this." My mouth opens but no words come out as I watch Daniel unfasten his belt and his jeans fall to the ground. He slips off his briefs and slaps his dick on my cheek. I look at it for a moment before I open my mouth and let it slip in.

"Yeah, that's it, slobber on my knob," he grunts as he forces his thick 8-inch cock further down my throat. I can feel a few drops of pre trickling down my esophagus. "This is all you're good for, isn't it?" he snarls as he repeatedly stabs the back of my throat with his meat. He thrusts in deep and I look up, tears forming in my eyes. He's panting lightly, his eyes scrunched in concentration, and his blue shirt is starting to get stained around his pits.

"That's what you should do from now on: make me feel good," spits Daniel. "Take it, take it all!" he roars as he goes all the way in, and I can feel the rhythmic pulsing from the underside of his cock pressing against my tongue as he deposits his cum down my throat. Not wanting to upset him any further I suppress my urge to gag and do my best to swallow it all. He moans in pleasure as he feels my throat grip on him before he withdraws his dick. He spends a minute panting before he sets the chair upright and unties me.

Daniel crouches down to my eye level and gets into my face. I can feel the warm air from his nostrils brush down across my cheeks. "Get out, bitch," he says menacingly. "I don't want to see your face for a week, understand?" He flings open the door and leaves. I wearily get up on my feet and leave the estate. I find a nearby phone booth and call a friend to crash at. As I walk down the street, I can't get the image of his stern, hard brown eyes out of my mind. It was a sheer display of power and intimidation that caused my heart to flutter in excitement.

Three days later, I'm walking down the street when a sleek black Rolls-Royce passes by me before stopping a few meters ahead. One of the rear windows rolls down and as I walk by a deep voice calls out. "You are Nico Rossi, yes?" I glance back and involuntarily jump a little.

Sitting in the back is a rugged man nearing his mid-50s. Broad-shouldered, solid chest, and a glance that said to everyone he meant business. However, what sticks out to me is his striking resemblance to someone I know very well. "Don Angelo!" I blurt out.

"It is getting very cold," he says to me in accented English. "Please, come in." He gestures to the door. I pull on it and it opens effortlessly. "Come, sit next to me," he commands in a gentle tone. I obey without a second thought as the door closes behind me. The crisp evening air gives way to a still warmth. "Andiamo," he calls out to the driver. The car begins to move.

"Thank you very much for letting me in, sir," I say haltingly. I've never met the man in person.

"Do not mention it," he replies. "Your mother, bless her soul, had asked me to look over you if anything happened to her. You are alright?"

"I am okay, uh, sir. I was just headed back to my friend's place for the night." He raises an eyebrow.

"Oh? I thought you were living under my son's roof as you are one of his men." A statement; not a question.

"I wa– I am! He just didn't want to see me for a while because I'm a disappointment." The last word rings hollow in the confines of the car. "I couldn't get money from someone so he threw me out for a bit."

"I see. I will need to have a talk with my son soon. I thought coming to this country would give him opportunities..." Don Angelo's eyebrows furrow and he looks frustrated.

"Oh, there is no need!" I say, flustered. "He just has high standards for his men. I... I just don't meet them."

"My son is showing that he does not know who his men are," he says coldly. He raises his arm and pats my head. "You are a kind soul, Nico. I expected you to do something like helping my son manage documents and such. If you would like, I can release you from his service."

"That is kind of you, sir, but I want to make him happy. He really looks up to you." My cheeks grow warm and I turn away from him.

"Is something the matter?" he asks me.

"No, not at all, sir," I reply, a little too hastily. "Daniel, er, your son really looks like you is all." His hand drifts from the top of my head to around my shoulder.

"Ever since his mother died he has been looking for me to guidance. He chuckles before lowering his voice. "You are very devoted to him, are you not?"

"Oh, yes! Er, not as much as to you, of course," I hastily correct myself.

"Oh?" He presses his fingers to my chin and forces me to look at him again as he breaks into a playful smile. "Then perhaps you will have to demonstrate it to me." He looks out the window. "We have arrived. Nico, open the door, would you?"

I open the car door to a large building. Not quite a mansion, but a building almost the size of a Broadway theater that is somewhat secluded from the rest of the city. Out of the corner of my eye I catch Don Angelo speaking with one of the guards, but what he's saying is beyond me.

"Come, Nico," he calls out without turning to me. He leads me up a flight of stairs to his office. It's well-furnished, with a large leather armchair placed behind a mahogany desk. He sinks into the chair and places an elbow on an armrest, watching me with a cocked head as he places his other hand on his knee. "So, show me your devotion," he says to me. I walk in front of him and get onto one knee.

"Yes, sir," I say. I take his hand and kiss the back of it. He continues to watch me as he raises one of his feet and slowly presses it into my crotch.

"Is that as far as your devotion goes?" he teases. "For tonight, you may touch me as you like. There's no need to be afraid, Nico." I swallow nervously and nod as I stand up. I lower my head and kiss him on the cheek once before planting my lips on his. As I explore his mouth I can taste the lingering tobacco on his breath. After I take my shirt off I go to take his off, struggling to get both pieces off as they were clinging tightly to his physique. There's a moment where I take in his lightly-hirsute torso before I use my tongue to explore each crevice. He lets out a low rumble of pleasure as I work my way down.

As I start to undo Don Angelo's belt, he rises from the chair and leans against the edge of the table. I continue to disrobe him as I pull his pants down, revealing a large bulge straining to break free of the boxers it's trapped in. As I pull the boxers down, his cock springs out, 10 inches long and thick. A bead of precum is already forming from his cockslit. I lick it off and slowly lower my jaw to accommodate its entry. "Take it easy, Nico," he tells me. "Not many have been able to take all of it at once." I slowly cram the first 3 inches down my throat and begin to suck.

I gradually swallow more of his cock down my throat and pick up speed. The accents of salt become more pronounced on my tongue as I wrap it around the shaft. My jaw starts to ache, and I release it, slightly panting for air. "Relax," Don Angelo says to me. "Let's try this instead." He stands me up and gently pushes me onto the table faceup. He picks up my legs and rests them on his shoulders before grabbing his cock and rubbing it over my hole. "I'll go slow," he reassures me as he pushes lightly against my ass. I try and relax as much as I can, but as his head makes its way in I fail to hold back tears and a whimper of pain.

"Shh, shh, it's okay," Don Angelo consoles me. He caresses my cheek as he inches further into me. He's about two-thirds of the way in when he stops. "I'm going to start moving now." He slowly withdraws his cock until only the head remains in me before plunging it back in. Gradually picking up speed, my whimpers graduate into moans as he eventually goes balls-deep into me, rubbing my prostate. "That's it, you're doing so well," he says between grunts. "Do you like it?"

"I feel so... good!" The last word comes out in a strained falsetto as one of his thrusts sends shivers of pleasure up my spine and causes my eyes to roll back in ecstasy.

"Come here," Don Angelo says as he wedges his hands between my back and the desk. Taking his cue I reach up and wrap my hands around the back of his neck as he lifts me up. He palms my ass cheeks as he slides me down on his dick before lifting me back up with imperceptible effort, save for the sweat on both of our bodies.

After two minutes of nonstop fucking his breathing grows laboured. "Ah, Nico! I'm—" Before he can finish his sentence, he lets out a long, drawn-out moan as I feel his cock twitch inside me. His legs, as sturdy as tree trunks, begin to quiver and buckle as he falls back into the chair. As my body's weight slams onto his pelvis, his head jerks to look at me with a surprised look before it melts into fulfilled pleasure and lolls backwards, mouth slightly agape. His dick hasn't finished pulsing. Finally getting a break from all the sensations my body was experiencing, I let myself fall onto him, my cheek resting against his clavicle as I try to breathe normally.

A knock on the door brings me back to my senses, and as I try to get off Don Angelo's cock, I hear him say "Enter".

The door opens and I hear a familiar voice say "What the fuck?!" I turn to look and see Daniel, horrified at what he just witnessed. "Nico! You're fucking my father?!" I hurriedly scramble off and cover my semi-hardon.

"It's not what it looks like!" I say, despite fully knowing well that it is exactly what it looks like. Daniel angrily saunters in my direction, clearly with the intent to throttle me.

"Daniel!" barks Don Angelo. "That's enough!"

"You asked for me to come!" he yells, albeit a little more subdued. He turns his attention back on me. "Getting out of my sight wasn't enough?"

"Daniele!" Don Angelo's voice reverberates throughout the room. "Basta." He's gesturing somewhere between my legs. I look down and feel a tiny trickle of the boss' cum running down the inside of my left thigh. "È un regalo per te." Daniel drops his jaw. "Bevi," the boss commands. "Nico, turn around." As I comply, something strikes me as odd about Daniel: did his pants get tighter? Don Angelo has a wry smile on his face. "You don't need to worry about getting cleaned up just yet."

Puzzled, I ask, "What do you mean by—" my question goes unfinished as I feel something crawl up my leg. The sensation it produces is like a feather slowly and lighting going up my spine. Looking down I see the top of Daniel's head under my crotch. "Daniel, oh my—" I gasp as he spreads my cheeks and starts flicking my hole with his tongue.

"Let it out, Nico," Don Angelo tells me. "Slowly." I relax my sphincter. Daniel becomes more ravenous as he starts slurping up his father's cum. His mustache tickles me and I can feel my cock reaching full mast.

"Oh, I'm so close," I moan with a strained voice. The boss stands up and gently grabs my dick before stroking it.

"Do it," he whispers in my ear as I feel my impending orgasm reach the point of no return. My eyes roll back as I give in and surrender my body to total pleasure. I am vaguely aware that Don Angelo has one arm propped on my shoulder and Daniel continues lapping at whatever's left in me.

As I return to my senses I realise that I shot my load into Don Angelo's other hand. He raises it to my face. "Keep it in your mouth," he instructs as he empties the contents. "Now give it to Daniel." I turn to look at the boss' son, who's now on his knees, panting with flushed cheeks. There is a large stain on his crotch. I hover over his face and let my cum slide out of my mouth into his. He remains unresponsive. "Escort him to his room and get him in the shower, Nico," Don Angelo commands.

"Of course, sir," I reply. As I get one of Daniel's arms around my shoulder, I pause and say out loud to myself, "Did all that really just happen? Maybe I'm just dreaming."

"You do not need to worry about that, Nico," Don Angelo responds. "It was all on my orders." He walks over to a closet and pulls out a bathrobe. "After all...

"That's how mafia works"

#stable diffusion #ai hunk #ai generated #ai muscle #ai male #ai art #gay smut #gay mafia

[dantakeyoman]

𝐓𝐄𝐄𝐍𝐀𝐆𝐄 𝐅𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑 | 𝐝. 𝐥𝐚𝐫𝐮𝐬𝐬𝐨

♡ 𝐝𝐚𝐧𝐢𝐞𝐥 𝐥𝐚𝐫𝐮𝐬𝐬𝐨 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦! 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

♡ * "𝒂𝒄𝒄𝒆𝒑𝒕𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒘𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒘𝒆 𝒉𝒂𝒗𝒆 𝒎𝒆𝒂𝒏𝒔 𝒂𝒄𝒄𝒆𝒑𝒕𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒚𝒐𝒖𝒓𝒔𝒆𝒍𝒇, 𝒅𝒂𝒏𝒏𝒚. 𝒊 𝒅𝒐𝒏'𝒕 𝒄𝒂𝒓𝒆 𝒉𝒐𝒘 𝒐𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓 𝒑𝒆𝒐𝒑𝒍𝒆 𝒔𝒆𝒆 𝒎𝒆 𝒘𝒉𝒆𝒏 𝒊'𝒎 𝒘𝒊𝒕𝒉 𝒚𝒐𝒖, 𝒃𝒖𝒕 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒄𝒍𝒆𝒂𝒓𝒍𝒚 𝒅𝒐." *

♡ 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐬 𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞, 𝐟𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬, 𝐤𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐞, 𝐢𝐧𝐣𝐮𝐫𝐲, 𝐥𝐢𝐦𝐞𝐬, 𝐢𝐧𝐧𝐮𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐨𝐬, 𝐞𝐭𝐜.

♡ * 𝒔𝒑𝒐𝒕𝒊𝒇𝒚 - 𝒑𝒐𝒗: 𝒌𝒂𝒓𝒂𝒕𝒆 𝒌𝒊𝒅 *

𝐎𝐍𝐄

"Hey, don't forget Corn Nuts either, (y/n/n)!" Molly called from the railing, leaning over it so far it looked like she'd fall off any second.

"I heard you the first time, ya weirdo!" You waved her off as you approached the gate to leave the complex.

"You're the only person in the world that likes those things."

Just as you grabbed the handle, a voice from the other side let out a battle cry, karate kicking the door, and you, down.

"Oh! Are you okay?!" He exclaimed, quickly dropping his bike to help you up.

"The hell are you doin'...man," when you finally stood up and opened your eyes, you were pleasantly surprised.

Instead of it being some weird kid that was just going around kicking things, it was an incredibly handsome boy.

"I'm sorry. That was stupid," he sheepishly smiled, letting go of your hand and picking his bike back up.

"It's all good. I wasn't exactly paying attention either," you assured, dusting off your shorts.

"You must be the new guy moving in Apartment 20, right?"

"Oh, yeah. You live here?" He asked, pointing up to the balcony.

"A friend does. We're having a sleepover. I was actually on a snack run before you ruthlessly beat me down," you joked, making him smile.

"I'm (y/n) (l/n)."

"Daniel Larusso. Nice to meet you," he grinned, making your stomach do a somersault.

"Right back attcha. You need help with your bag?" You asked, pointing at the suitcase hanging off his bike.

"Oh, nah, don't worry about it. It's heavy an-." "Too late," you smirked, quickly sliding under his arm and grabbing it for him.

He smirked, amused, "Y'know, it's usually the other way around? The guy carries the girl's bag."

"Yeah, well we do it different here," you smiled, "Speaking of, lemme guess where you're from. I got a good nose for this stuff."

"Alright, lay it on me," he raised a brow.

"I'm gonna say....Jersey," you closed your eyes, peeking one open to see if you were correct.

"No way. How'd you guess that?" He smiled.

"The accent. Plus, I got a nose for my own," you tapped your nose.

"You're from Jersey, too?"

"Yup. I used to live there as a kid, then my family moved us all out here."

"Why?"

"Got sick of the winters."

"I love winter."

"Me, too."

You both paused for a moment, looking at each other before letting out a couple of laughs.

"You're funny. I like you," you smiled, walking up the steps with him.

"Whoa, slow down. We just met," he joked, a small smirk playing on his lips as he plopped his bike at the top of the steps.

"Har, har," you playfully scoffed, giving him a tiny shove.

"Here's Apartment 20."

"Thanks," he smiled.

"No problem," you smiled back.

"Say...me and a couple of other kids from school are throwin' a party on the beach tomorrow. Am I gonna see you there?"

"I dunno," he smirked, getting a little closer and raising a brow. "Are you?"

"You tell me," you shrugged, looking up at him through your lashes.

"Yeah, you'll see me there," he grinned.

"Great. I'll pick you up in the morning," you smiled, heading back towards the steps.

You turned around, sitting down on the railing and flashing him one more grin.

"See ya then, Danny."

With that, you slid down, him watching you the entire time as you headed back out the gate.

"Yeah...see you then," he cheesed to himself, walking into his new home with his heart beating out his chest.

Maybe this place wouldn't be so bad after all.

𝒍 𝒂 𝒓 𝒖 𝒔 𝒔 𝒐

"Look at (y/n/n)'s new boy toy," Molly smirked, tossing a couple more Corn Nuts in her mouth as a couple of the other girls snickered.

"Shut up, Mo. He's not a boy toy," you scoffed, rolling your eyes.

"You shoulda seen them yesterday. They were talking and flirting as if they've known each other for life," she added.

"'Cause it felt like it. We actually have a lot in common, and we kept making each other laugh," you smiled,  taking your eyes away from the game and turning to the girls.

"Oh, God, she's got it bad. Someone call for help," Casey said sarcastically, pretending to flag down some officers.

"I'm sick of you," you playfully smiled, grabbing a handful of Corn Nuts and throwing them at her.

"Watch the nuts, man!" Mo gasped, grabbing the bag away from you.

It was the next day, and you had given Daniel a ride to the beach party.

Him and a couple of the other guys were playing soccer while you had your scuffle with your two best friends.

And as if on cue, the ball got kicked over to the girls, the crowd of boys following.

Daniel tried to get the ball back, but he locked eyes with you and completely forgot about the game, almost dazed.

You gave him a warm smile, his crooked one growing on him, and you two kept eye contact in comfortable silence until the ball got kicked back over.

He kicked it up, showing off a couple juggling moves before the ball got taken away again, and he ran off.

Turning around every couple of seconds to look at you.

Molly looked at Casey, and Casey looked at Molly, before they turned to you.

"I just want to make it clear that everyone saw that, right?" Casey asked the whole group.

A chorus's of yeses and yups rung through and Molly linked arms with you, Casey getting the other side.

"Your blush is making me sick. Let's cool you off," she said snootily, the two of them walking you towards the ocean.

"Haters..." you muttered under your breath.

"What was that?!"

𝒍 𝒂 𝒓 𝒖 𝒔 𝒔 𝒐

Now that night had come, the campfires were started and everyone began roasting hot dogs.

You still sat with the girls, practically having a staring contest with Daniel, who was standing around with the guys.

"Alright, this lovingly watching from across the way crap isn't working. You guys haven't said a single word to each other all day," Molly sighed, throwing her head back in anguish.

"I don't wanna seem to clingy by going up to him. He just got here so I wanna let him make friends with people other than myself," you defended.

"Oh, so now you're friends? After a single day? Case was right, you do have it bad," Molly cocked a brow.

"Shut up," you rolled your eyes.

"It looks like the guys just talked him into coming over! Look alive!" Casey whisper yelled, giving you a rough elbow as the three of you watched Daniel walk over.

One of the boys threw a soccer ball over to you, and you caught it, standing up and meeting him halfway.

"Hey, stranger. Lose something?" You smiled, handing him back the ball.

"Yeah, I hope they're not botherin' ya," he smiled.

"Nah, I actually wanted to ask you how you did that juggling stuff earlier. I wanted to try it," you asked.

"Oh, it's pretty easy. You start from the knee. You just go one," he bounced it on his knee then caught it, "You try one at a time. Then you try two. One, two."

He handed the ball back to you and you got one bounce...then two...then three.

"See? You're a natural," he grinned.

"Wait, I wanna try for four," you stated, a determined look in your eye.

But once you got to three, you fell right on top of him, the ball rolling off somewhere.

The two of you laughed, and you rolled off of him.

"That's my bad. I'll go get it," you smiled.

"I'll get it. I'll be right back," he assured, running off to go find the ball.

You happily sighed, turning around to see the entirety of the girls circle giving you dopey grins and big thumbs up.

You playfully rolled your eyes.

Just then, you heard the sounds of revving motorcycles, and knew that could mean only one thing.

'Shit.'

You walked back over to the girls circle, sitting down and cranking the radio.

"(y/n/n), I wanna talk to you," Johnny stated, walking up to you.

"Leave me alone, Johnny. And don't call me that," you spat.

"We've been through this, I don't wanna talk."

"Well I wanna talk you you, all right?" He asked again, shutting off your radio and raising his tone.

You turned it back on, giving him an icy glare.

But he cut it back off.

"What is your problem?!" He exclaimed.

"You! Now for the hundredth time take your little Cobra Kais and get outta here!" You raised your voice even louder, angrily standing up and grabbing your radio.

Johnny cheated on you with Rachel from Home Ec, and you caught the two red handed in the back of the school when you were trying to surprise him on his birthday.

Needless to say, you cut him off right then and there.

"Yeah, right, like that's gonna solve anything," he scoffed, snatching your radio from you.

"Gimme my radio," you made your tone dangerously low, going to grab for it.

"You promise to talk to me?" He asked, quickly moving out the way.

"I'm not promising you anything. It's my radio so give it back to me!"

"Not until you promise to talk to me!"

"Fine!"

You snatched it back, keeping eye contact with him as you cranked the music again.

He snatched it back, slamming it on the ground, all the knobs going everywhere.

"What the hell is wrong with you?! You just broke my radio!" You angrily shouted, shoving him.

Just then, Daniel came in, grabbing the remnants of it off the ground.

"Don't touch it, punk!" Johnny exclaimed, pointing at him.

Daniel ignored him, trying to hand it back to you, but Johnny smacked it out of his hands.

"You want it?" He smirked.

He took the radio and shoved it into Daniel's arms, making him fall over.

"Stop it!" You shouted, shoving Johnny again, but he pushed you into his friends, them holding you back as he rolled up his sleeves and Daniel got up off the floor.

Daniel swung, but Johnny tripped him and made him fall again.

"Johnny, stop it!" You shouted again, thrashing against his friends.

But their grip was tight, not to mention there were four of them.

Daniel got back up, but the same thing happened, and Johnny added a kick to the gut as well.

"Johnny, leave him alone! I'll talk to you, just leave him be!" You glared, still struggling.

"Yeah, where have I heard that before," he scoffed, walking back up to Daniel, who was playing hurt until he got back up and socked Johnny in the mouth.

So Johnny kicked him in the stomach and face twice.

Daniel was down.

"Let go of me!" You spat in their faces, stepping on their feet as they let you go.

"Why don't you hit me, huh?! Since you're so bad! Hit me, asshole!" You spat, roughly shoving Johnny and punching him in the chest.

"Get away from me! Don't come near me again!"

"This is your fault! Get on your bikes, guys," he rounded up his Cobra Kais, walking off as you quickly ran over to Daniel, kneeling down next to him.

"Daniel, are you okay? I'm so sorry-." "Nah, just leave me alone," he groaned, dropping his bloody face in the sand.

"Are you sure? I'll help you-." "Leave me alone. It's okay, I-." He winced mid-sentence.

It looked like he was in a lot of pain.

"C'mon, (y/n/n). Let's go. It's better to leave him alone," Molly said quietly, tapping your shoulder.

You sighed, standing back up and reluctantly turning away.

'I'm gonna kill Johnny the next time I see him.'

𝒍 𝒂 𝒓 𝒖 𝒔 𝒔 𝒐

#karate kid #daniel larusso #karate kid x reader #daniel larusso x reader #larusso x reader #daniel x reader

[wreckedandpolemic]

heyyyy what about 79, 124, 130 and 133 👀👀

behave - george daniel

(mdni) this is fucking vile hkdjfslh read at your own risk

warnings: 18+, dom/sub, bratting, rough, unprotected sex, degradation, spanking, edging, use of 'sir' once or twice lol

George is furious when he catches up to you, cold rage glimmering in his eyes. You smile mischievously up at him, then turn to trail a finger down the chest of the stranger across from you. His name’s Michael, or Mark, or Mitch, something to that effect — you don’t care, really. He’s just a pawn, a toy you’re using to act out for George’s attention.

“You ready to go, baby?” George asks. It’s phrased as a question, but the hardness of his tone tells you it’s not.

You don’t care, though; you’re goading him, pushing him to breaking point, begging for him to snap, to let that dark side take over, to claim you, to ruin you. “Nope.” You pop the ‘p’ obnoxiously. “My friend here was just about to get me another drink, right?”

MichaelMarkMitch shifts uncomfortably under George’s hard, unflinching stare. “Look, man.” He holds his hands up placatingly, and you watch George grit his teeth against his grating American accent — another reason you settled on him, perfectly poised just to irritate the fuck out of your boyfriend. “I’m not… I’m not trying to steal anyone else’s girl here. She didn’t tell me she had a fucking boyfriend. ‘S not my fault your bitch wants me,” he adds, smug, puffing his chest out obnoxiously.

George glares hard at MarkMichaelMitch, clenching his jaw. You can practically see a vein jump in his forehead as his fury only grows. “Mate. She doesn’t give a fuck about you. Do one before I knock you out,” he growls, seizing your arm in a punishing grip. MitchMarkMichael scrambles out of his seat and flees to the bar. Smart. “You,” George hisses low in your ear, delicious darkness in his tone sending a thrill skittering up your spine, “Are being a fucking brat, and we’re leaving.”

A faux-innocent expression springs to your face and you pout. “But I’m having such a nice time…” You turn to face him, placing both your hands on his chest and shoving gently. He holds firm, obviously; you’re only trying to rile him up.

He tips his head back in frustration, blood visibly boiling. “Can you behave, for once in your life?” he snaps, tone frothing with anger.

You poke your tongue out childishly. “Never.”

George seethes at you, grabbing you by the waist and marching you towards the door. You’re powerless to resist, thighs clenching in deadly anticipation. He shoves you out of the door with a stinging slap to your ass, bundling you into a waiting taxi. A hand stays controlling on your thigh the whole ride as George stares ahead, stony-faced. You slide a hand between his legs, palming his hardness with a grin, your best demure eyes waiting for him when he inevitably turns — he’s weak for you, really. But he doesn’t even fucking look at you, gripping your wrist with his free hand and returning it to your lap, something authoritative in his movements warning you not to try it again.

After what feels like hours of agonising waiting, the taxi pulls up outside your place. George pays the fare with a cursory nod to the driver and you get out, the cool night air kissing your exposed skin. You hang off his arm, pulling teasing faces, pressing kisses against his cool skin, trying everything to get him to crack a smile.

He doesn’t budge. Fuck. You’re really in for it.

George marches you inside, his silence disconcerting. He drags you into the bedroom, jaw still clenched tight. “Strip,” he orders, the first words he’s spoken since the bar, and you grin. You’re getting punished anyway; might as well do everything you can to deserve it. Dropping onto the bed, you kick off your shoes and smile blithely at him. He surges forward to grip your jaw punishingly. “You don’t strip for me, you don’t get fucked,” he murmurs lovingly against your lips. “I think that’s more than fair after the way you’ve behaved,” he adds, stepping back without kissing you, your lips cold and waiting.

“Yes, sir,” you breathe, thrill and arousal coiling in your gut as your hands fly to your shirt, tossing it away carelessly. Standing, you wriggle out of your jeans, revelling in his heated, dark gaze on your bare skin.

“So you can be good,” George says, nodding appreciatively. Crossing the room, he kisses you, cupping your jaw and sweeping his tongue into your mouth, taking you over. You feel yourself bending to his will, his skilled hands moulding you into something good and pliant. 

Breaking the kiss, you shake your head to clear it, smiling wickedly. “I can,” you shrug. “But it’s so much more fun not to be.”

“Get on the bed,” George orders, striding towards you. He shoves you down when you don’t move and your stomach swoops as you thud against the mattress. His skin is hot where he touches you, you’re certain his handprint is seared into your skin, a beautiful brand that’s proof he owns you.

“Turn around. Face down, ass up. You need punishing, love.” You swallow thickly, arousal and nerves boiling in your blood, and turn over, kneeling on the bed with your face pressed into the pillow. “Fuck, you’re so wet. Such a slut,” he murmurs disapprovingly, resting a gentle hand on the curve of your ass, the last gentle hand you’ll feel for a while, you think. “You ready?” You nod desperately against the sheets. “Words, baby,” he adds, clicking his tongue.

“Yes, sir, God, yes! ‘M a slut, ‘m your slut, please!” You squirm against the mattress, heartbeat throbbing in your cunt. You can’t fucking stand the waiting, and he knows it, his stillness a stark contrast to the way you tremble and writhe.

George’s silence is oppressive and torturous, thick in your lungs as you struggle for breath. After a few more agonising seconds, his hand comes down hard against your ass. You cry out, pain radiating from your ass and spreading deliciously through your cunt. “Love that, don’t you? My dirty girl,” he murmurs, the grin in his voice so evident that you can see it swimming in your mind. Another slap and tears are pooling in your eyes, your cunt dripping wet and aching with need. Two more quick strikes have you drooling into the pillow, limbs already weak, ass stinging red. “That enough? You gonna be good for me, now?” George asks, running a soothing hand over your flushed skin, the gentleness a stark contrast that has you on edge, waiting for the other shoe to drop.

“Mhmm,” you moan, brain melted and leaking from your ears, feeling loose on your bones and close to the edge already. The sound of his clothes falling to the floor sends excitement fluttering through you, his hands clutching possessively at your waist.

George bends low to kiss the sore flesh of your ass, comforting warmth spreading from where his lips touch your skin. “Spread your legs for me,” he orders, voice still commanding in that deliciously cruel way. In what feels like a Herculean effort, you obey, widening the gap between your legs, your cunt spreading open for him. A sharp slap to your inner thigh makes you scream, livewire nerves racing into overdrive at the unexpected pain. “Spread them wider. You want to act like a slut, you’ll get fucked like one.”

He physically pulls your thighs apart, trailing two fingers through your soaked, messy cunt, the slight pressure over your clit jolting through you, sparks bursting behind your eyes. “Fuck, stop teasing, please,” you whimper, tears spilling from your eyes.

Laughing cruelly, George wipes his wet fingers on the sheets. “Stop teasing?” he repeats incredulously. “After the shit you pulled earlier? You’ll be lucky if I let you come at all,” he warns, lining up his cock and filling you in one, fluid motion.

The pressure between your legs spikes intensely and you moan, your body a vessel of molten pleasure. George sets a brutal pace, fucking you into the mattress, body shaking with the effort of holding yourself up. One of his thumbs rubs delicious circles into your clit, dragging you higher and higher as his hips snap against yours. “Oh, fuck,” you whimper, clawing at the sheets. “Fuck, George, I’m gonna–” He stops, stilling inside you and pulling his hand away from your clit, your orgasm ruined.

Your body screams in protest, rocking your hips back against him desperately, clenching around George’s cock in an effort to coax him back into moving. The crest of pleasure subsides, slipping through your fingers, foregone ecstasy sinking like a stone in your belly. George starts to move again, stoking those embers until an inferno blazes under your skin and you roll against him, matching the pace of his thrusts so he strikes that perfect spot inside of you every time.

Slick, obscene sounds of skin meeting fill the room, mingling with your pants and moans, spit and tears sliding down your face. George fucks you impossibly harder, using you for his own pleasure, pace turning erratic as he gets closer. He groans, coming, pulsing inside you.

You whimper as he pulls out of you, his cum leaking out of you. Strength gone from your limbs, you collapse on the mattress, boneless. He keeps circling your clit, euphoria rushing through your blood, you’re almost there again, then… Nothing. He steps completely away from you, footsteps receding into the bathroom. The tap runs, the trickling sound torturous as you lay helplessly waiting for him. You don’t move, don’t dare touch yourself, just laying still and trying to gather your wild heartbeat back under control. “Oh, baby,” George murmurs as he reappears, watching you cry and drool into the pillows.

“Please touch me,” you whine, voice thick with watery need. He takes you by the waist, rolling you onto your back and you look up at him with fluttering eyelids. You’re wrecked, desperate, absolutely consumed by him as he works his fingers over your sensitive clit. It hurts so beautifully, pain sparking between your legs and twisting into bliss as it climbs up your spine.

“Can you be good from now on?” You nod wildly, brain wrapped around him as your cunt throbs.

“Yes! Please, George, fuck, I wanna come so bad, please!” you beg, whines and incoherent pleas tumbling from your tearstained face.

“Then come for me,” he whispers, low in your ear, the words finally tipping you over the edge, full-body shakes overtaking you as you scream out for him. Nothing feels real, your body floating inches above the bed, sweet, glorious bliss rolling over you in waves, wiping you clean.

You come back to Earth with a grin, pulling George in for a long, languid kiss. He smiles down at you, gaze raking over your ruined appearance. “You feeling okay?” he asks, all traces of that cruel dominance vanished and replaced with warm concern. You nod, words dying in your scratchy throat. “Gonna be alright if I get you a glass of water, something to clean you up?” he adds, hands hovering over your body as if you might shatter under his touch.

“I’m okay, darling,” you promise, a satisfied smile stretching across your lips as your eyes flutter shut, resting your body while you watch him slip out of the room. You wait for that familiar dread that always succeeds nights like this, but it doesn’t come. You know he’ll be back to take care of you — he always is.

#george daniel x reader #george daniel #george daniel smut #george daniel imagine #the 1975 #the 1975 fanfic #the 1975 smut #smut #writing #requests #request #smut prompt fills #think Maybe i need some holy water #posting this at 4:30 pm before i go to work FUCKJDKJS

[nicolesainz]

Getting caught up in the moment (DR3)

Daniel Ricciardo x reader

Warnings: heavy smut, 18+ dni, hickeys, p in v, fingering, dirty talk (it’s filth all in all)

Requested by: @princessbetsy123-blog

I hope you like it! Thank you again for the request 😘

I’m so sorry it’s small. I promise, the next request will be much bigger!

Being wrapped into Daniel’s embrace feels like home. There’s no better place. I had missed him so much during this season with all the races and especially during the second part of the season.

Having your boyfriend fly all over the world, to places you can’t even imagine can cause nostalgia and homesickness.

Of course, I attended as many races as I could. Mostly the European ones. Monaco is close to everywhere so I used it to my advantage. But nothing compares to being alone with the one you love and enjoy spending time.

Daniel has had a very difficult season so being present and encouraging him, made him feel more secure and confident. I felt so bad that I couldn’t join him during the second part of the season that I was constantly FaceTiming him to repay my absence.

Now that he will have more time on his hands, we’ll get to enjoy some alone time together. In all the years me and Daniel have been together, we barely see each other, but we make it work!

“I missed this. I missed you babe. I’m really glad we are doing this” Daniel exhales deeply after expressing his thoughts to me

“I missed you too. And I’m sorry I wasn’t able to attend as many races as last time. I promise, I will pay you back” that last line probably shouldn’t have slipped

“Pay back huh? Well, that’s intriguing!” He looks at me, his eyes focused on my wet lips

“I’m in big trouble now, aren’t I?”

“I don’t know…will you be a good girl and behave? Or should I find some ways to punish you?” His vision darkened as his voice got even deeper too. The Australian accent was sparking and had me going weak in the knees.

“That’s up to you to decide. Your actions will have conclusions” I reply quirkily to him, pushing my ass lightly inwards, almost feeling Daniel’s bulge growing bigger.

“But your conclusions will have consequences my love.” He said before holding on tightly my hands and resting them on the bed head. Both of them being held by Daniel’s large palm.

Oh my freaking god

“Darling, can I ask you a question?” A shiver gets send down to my spine and curiosity immediately hits me.

I simply nod, because he knows I’d do anything to please him after being away for so long.

“Will you let me take care of you tonight?” The words escape his lips followed by the lustiest most hungry look he’s ever given me

“I certainly will” I almost didn’t finish, with Daniel quickly grabbing a bandana from his drawer and tying up my arms onto the bed head.

“Be a good girl and open up” he demands and without hesitation I oblige. I don’t think I’ve ever completed a task this fast!

Daniel lowers his head and grabs the hem of my dripping wet panties, slowly taking them off me, to have full access.

I can tell he got excited once he realized I’m already wet just at the sight of him. And if I’m being honest, who wouldn’t? This man is sculptured like a Greek god!

Suddenly his nose scratches my slit and my legs have already started shaking. Afterwards his sweet mouth was landing kisses on my pussy, literally eating me up until the very last drop.

When his mouth abandoned me, a follow up with his fingers came around, as he entered two of them on my clit, earning a loud moan of his name from me

“I’ve missed those screams of yours” he exhales as pumps his fingers in a fast pace in and out of me, reminding me of that euphoric feeling that had been absent.

“D-Daniel, I’m c-close…” the words barely come out of my mouth as I bite my lower lip, trying to hold back a moan that will probably allow our neighbors to hear very clearly.

“Release my dear” another command comes up and in seconds my cum starts dripping all over his fingers

“Fucking heavenly taste” Daniel exclaims as he licks my juices from his fingers. This was definitely an unholy sight.

His legs sit in between my thighs as he nibbles my nipples and bites them lightly. I can already feel the marks forming while he keeps on sucking my breasts even harder than before.

It’s a pity I can’t touch him, because it would have been nice to please him too, like he does to me.

Suddenly, a cling sounded from Daniel’s phone. We both look at it weirdly and smirk at one another when we see that the notification came from BeReal

“It’s time for you to be real”

“Well, I guess it wants us to be real” Daniel grabs his phone from the nightstand and snaps a picture of my neck and beginning of chest, without showing any inappropriate parts.

The only thing inappropriate were my hickies, all over my body. Purple marks shining brighter than anything. Nothing could cover those.

Seconds away from the moment Daniel posted the picture, comments from his fellow F1 drivers and reaction pics were dropping like bombs

Pierre Gasly “It’s the dirtiest time of the season”

Alex Albon “reaction pic with lily gasping at the sight while she’s shoving her best smirk”

Lando Norris “You bloodsucker!”

Max Verstappen “training sessions started earlier than I thought”

“I won’t be able to show my face again on that paddock nor at the Red Bull garage” I laugh wholeheartedly with all the messages we read

“Well, at least they know I’m still having fun”

#daniel ricciardo x reader #daniel ricciardo one shot #daniel ricciardo #daniel ricciardo smut #formula 1 #fanfic #oneshot

[lovesickry]

- the devil is in the details.

┈⋆⭒ daniel ricciardo x fem!reader [2.2k] ┈⋆⭒ part 6 !

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ ⎯ find all parts here!! .𖥔 ݁ ˖ ⎯ contents: sexism in motorsport, angst, lots of feelings, fluff?!?! not really proofread .𖥔 ݁ ˖ ⎯ a/n:literally was emotional writing this .

you had slept surprisingly well last night, a deep, dreamless sleep. one you desperately needed. a break from your constant reminiscence of daniel.your alarm woke you up and you felt content as you got your bag ready for the day and made you coffee, grappling your paddock pass before walking out the door. walking onto the paddock was probably the most nervewracking thing you’d ever had to do, pretending to know what to do, pretending that you weren’t utterly lost and shamelessly darting your eyes around for somebody, anybody wearing mercedes kit. you found your way to the garage, by some slight miracle, discreetly trailing after a man with a mercedes shirt and headset on. sliding yourself next to the only other person you knew. the race engineer. introducing yourself and doing the necessary checkups on the cars pre-testing performance. it was only practice today, FP1 and FP2, but it was still a time to see how the car performed and if you needed to contact any mechanics or get toto involved, the calm before the storm kind of. you’d settled into the garage, then the drivers started arriving, more than ever yiu shive your head down, dreading the moment you see a trail of redbull saunter past. you do, through the gap in the computer screens and the desks and the people you see him, smiling just as you remember, bright and warm. you fought the urge to scrunch your nose, hiding your disdain. he tilts his head towards the mercedes garage and you dare to meet his eyes if he spots you, his attention is drawn quickly away by max catching up to him and striking a conversation.

you let a breath out you didn’t know you were holding.

in the first practice, mercedes were leading the pack 1,2. valtteri behind lewis by 0.551 seconds. ahead of both red bulls, the whole garage was happy about that and the ferraris too.

practice 2 did not go as smoothly as you would’ve like it to, or anyone working for mercedes would’ve liked it too. started well, valtteri taking the lead, but after a few laps, the ferrari of kimi räikkönen hit him, sending him into the gravel. causing an uproar of groans from the mercedes garage as trackside engineers and mechanics had to be sent out. it continued after five minutes and didn’t do much changing to the standings. hamilton 1, bottas 3. not bad at all. and you weren’t too mad about daniels 3-place grid penalty.

the day had gone well, as well as any first day, you’d met a some other engineers and crew, but you couldn’t shake the skepticism of you belonging there. you kept telling yourself: you did belong, you did deserve it. you’d a girl named lucy, she was the only female mechanic that you’d seen and you clicked almost immediately in the short time you’d spoken, much easier to talk to someone who knew you deserved to be there, rather than someone who questioned it. she was also australia, but grew up overseas, she had a slight accent when she spoke, later she told you that she grew up in france and recently moved back to australia. you’d impulsively asked her if she wanted a lift to work tommorow and she’d nodded eagerly, admitting she hadn’t yet purchased a car only recently moving and had been catching the bus or getting an uber. figuring offering to drop her home would come off to eager, you walked towards the car park until you went your seperate ways, waving goodbye and exchanging numbers. walking back to your car, just updating yourself on what you missed that day, grace started a new job as well today and no doubt she would have something to say about it.

you hear your name from behind you, faint. you turn around briefly, head just over the left side of your shoulder. you wished you hadn’t. daniel is jogging towards you, your eyes widen as you understand the situation. concluding that turning around and walking to your car faster sounds like the soundest idea in your head. you didn’t want to run, but daniel would catch you otherwise, you ease into a much faster walk. your just about to open your car door, hand on the handle, when you feel his hand on your wrist. all too familiar, all to nostalgic. oh god. you rip your hand out of his grasp and dear to look at his face. so up close after this long.

he’s in more redbull kit, but loose jeans. he hasn’t worn skinny jeans since you got drunk and told him that baggy jeans on men were more attractive. he’s slightly puffed, and his balaclava still indenting his face, his hair messy and slightly damp. he stares at you for a bit. suddenly your aware of your closeness, stepping back, looking away. nobody speaks, it feels like forever, but it’s probably only thirty seconds of silence before you say anything.

“what is it daniel?” you say, exasperated. after all his hatred and ignoring and behaviour, he’s chasing you down after work.

“can we talk?” he asks. his voice is soft. surprisingly so.

you scoff. “why?” you shrug, getting angry now.

“why now, daniel? why not all those times in the past year where i reached out and tried so hard to make the effort and you brushed me off, not taking into account that my mum died and maybe i needed my best friend then. or somebody to be there, but instead you dissapear and then you don’t respond or leave me voicemails late at night saying weird cryptic shit. wanna talk about that daniel? talk about the fucking shit you left me in, shit that i had to deal with all by myself. 3 weeks after she died and you came over, you told me everything would be fine and i fucking believed you. i let you leave, i came to find you after the race and you were just about to fuck somebody else in your drivers room. wanna hear about that? yeah i felt sick, then you dissapeared. i wished you happy birthday daniel, i waited to hear from you. i texted you after every race, do you remember that?”

your raising your voice now, and honestly your grateful he’s not interrupting, this being something you’d wanted to get off your chest for as long as you could remember.

“i told you i was there, FOR YOU, my mum died and i was texting YOU “are you okay”. is that what you wanna talk about? - or is there something else shitty you did between that time and now?”

your voice does not waver and your chin does not wobble, you are stoic and you are profoundly proud of yourself for that fact. he’s getting on your nerves now, giving you a look of pity, you want him to get as angry as you are. you want him to react, to respond.

“well”

he’s speechless, he has no excuse and he knows it. he takes a long, shaky breath out. you look at him, looking down at the ground, begging him to say something. you’d had enough. if he wasn’t going to say something now, he wasn’t ever going to say anything.

you reach for your door handle again, getting the drivers door open and siding in, he puts his body between the door. your legs not yet in the car yet, he stands between them, looking down at you. a position reminiscent of a night you’d wish you could forgot in order to continue to forgot him. he reaches out, wanting to touch your arm. he’s aching for your skin, he’s falling apart and he needs the feeling of you against him to put him back together. you let him, too exhausted to fight back anymore. his hold on your arm is feather light and delicate, his fingers daring to move in slight patterns but he stops himself, he did not have any right to do that.

taking another breath he finally speaks.

“fuck- i- i- know dylan, okay, i know”

you wait for him to continue.

“i know i’ve been a dickhead-“

you interrupt him “still a dickhead”

he lets you, even letting out a small nearly undetectable laugh.

“yeah i know, and i’m not saying we have to be friends again okay, if you don’t want that or whatever. i’m just, when i called you and asked if you were coming to work here and then the shit i sent you after. that was shitty and i don’t want to have to ignore you or hate you from so close up, so i just-“

a breath again.

“i wanted to say that, can we be civil. i won’t talk to you or anything, i just want to be able to look at you without you looking at me like you wished i was dead.”

you’re looking at him, his features growing soft and his eyes growing sad.

“i’d never wish you were dead”

“hah” he lets out

“anyway what i’m trying to say and really dragging out now is that i’m so sorry. i left you and i dissapeared and im so fucking sorry. and i don’t know why i didn’t realise it sooner, maybe it was because i hadn’t seen you in so long that you’d almost become a figment of my imagination, but your here now.” he gestures towards you and him.

“and you’re so real, and it hurts not being able to talk to you. i know it’s all my fault and i don’t to say that. but i miss you dylan. i miss what we had, and i miss when you cared about me. i know that you don’t lo- like me anymore, but please just don’t hate me”

oh god.oh christ. oh fuck. you do care about him. embarrassingly so, you cared about him too much, positively more than he cared about you.

you open your mouth and then shut it again.

“i-“ a deep breath

“i don’t hate you. okay? i never did. it was just still painful to care about like i did.”

that was the most honest thing you’d ever said.

“and for the record, i don’t forgive you, but i can agree to the no malicious action toward eachother.”

“what can i do to make you forgive me?”

you look at him.

“time. a good reason. a proper apology, maybe then”

he squeezes your arm then, a sign of affection. you accept it blindly. and you find yourself climbing out of the car and grabbing his shoulders, pulling him into a hug. it’s like two pieces of a puzzle, the other one been missing that you’d only found one night after a few drinks and he fits perfectly against you, and he’s warm like you remeber, and he smells like you remember and he rests one hand in your hair like you remember and you rest one hand on his back and it’s warmer than it usually is, and your both breathing eachother in, deeply and wholely. trying to consume the other, letting words unsaid be said in breaths taken. his head is next to your ear when he says.

“i’ve missed you so much dylan, you can’t imagine”

he’s shaking slightly, as though your touch is causing him pain. you head nestled into his neck pulls away briefly to look at him again and repeat to him.

“i’ve missed you more than you’d ever know.”

you put your head back into his neck.

“but i cant forgive you.” you can’t let yourself, not after the mental turmoil youve put yourself through for him, because of him. he shakes harder at that comment, and you hold him tighter. tears threatening to fall. you pull away. whiplashed from the emotions seeing him and touching him that brought from you, he is flushed, tears scratch at his eyelids and there is a line between his eyebrows.

“i’ll see you tommorow, i don’t hate you, we’re okay”

it’s a shock that your voice does not crack once in that sentence. an odd string of words by all accounts to people who did not hear the conversation.

“i don’t hate you, i’ll see you tommorow and i’ll look at you nicely” he says it with a slight smile. lifting the mood slightly.

“of course you will, dork” you grin now and so does he, the smile you’d missed so much, that every person on the earth loves.

“thank god you got a new car, i’d worried you’d still be driving that poor toyota corolla” he was referring to your first ever car that you’d gotten a few years second hand and maybe had a few problems

“the mechanic had to pry it out of my dying hands”

“i believe you”

“i’ll see you tommorow”

you open the car door, unrestricted this time. you glance at him one last time and smile, he smiles back. god you’re nearly happy.

“bye dyl” he waves

the nickname slips in so easy and you relish it, the humanness of his behaviour. as soon as you leave the staff car park you’re smiling out the windshield like a fucking idiot.

#daniel ricciardo #daniel ricciardo angst #daniel ricciardo fic #daniel ricciardo smut #f1 #f1 fic #f1 x you #daniel ricciardo x you #daniel ricciardo imagine #Daniel Ricciardo series #f1 x reader

[rosegolqen]

Mors Vincit Omnia

billy russo x reader (au)

warnings: short fight scene

words: 2886

iii. pursuing the woman

Indescribably everything had been planned perfectly. To every last fucking detail. Distract Daniel for the time being while also impress him for future needs. Done. Slip away from the crowd unnoticed with an excuse of going to the restroom. Check. Charm Denis Andreyev, a Russian man who was tied with a ringleader who in expanse was directly working with General Dreykov, her once master. Done. Denis Andreyev was so absorbed in her that she easily slipped his identification card from his pocket. Now she would be able to break into his office and get the name of that ringleader who was kidnapping young girls and shipping them off to the General. Anastasiya would be able to buy herself enough time to bring down Dreykov before her master hired another ringleader. Check. No. Scratch that because an undeniably attractive yet idiotic man decided to stop her before she could get to Denis's office.

Strong arms pinned her torso and hands to the wall, a warm hand covered the lower part of her face and Anastasiya could see the recognition in Billy's eyes when he looked at her. His whisper brought shivers down her spine. She hadn't let anyone get this close to her in a long time. She hadn't expected him or anyone to catch her tonight. "Where do you think you're going with that, Anastasiya?"

The textured yet white concrete wall bit into the skin of her back because of the stupid dress she was wearing. A minute detail that Anastasiya also hated about the black dress was that it was almost skin-tight and she couldn't hide that many weapons underneath it. Don't be fooled she still had many tricks up her sleeve that didn't need the inclusion of pointy and sharp objects.

Billy must have watched the interaction she had with Denis. She thought she was slick and Russo had found a woman to distract himself with just as he did at every social gathering yet Anastasiya underestimated him. His sharp military eyes trained with years of experience and ruthlessness didn't miss a minor point.

He was good, but she was better.

The elevator opposite their hiding spot by the wall opened luckily enough, detecting movement from them and Anastasiya mustered enough strength to overpower him and push both of them into the open elevator. Before a head could turn in their direction from the party, she hit a button, swiftly closing the metal doors as she pushed Billy away from her and against the walls of the lift.

Andreyev's card was safely tucked between the fabric of the dress and her collarbone. She would need that after she was done with Billy. She let her bag fall to the ground as the man before she straightened his back and slicked back a strand of hair that fell over his forehead. His top lip pulled back, bearing his teeth and his eyes wide with ferocity. His suit was crumpled, ironed button-up brimming with wrinkles.

She tilted her head, trying to get her breathing under control as she dropped the fake English accent, "You don't want to play games with me tonight, Russo." Anastasiya thanked whatever Saint that her dress had a tiny slit going above her knees as she ripped the fabric more, making it easier for her to move. A thin thigh holster adored the flesh of her femur bone, containing a pointy knife that she sharpened this morning. Pulling it out, she twirled the knife in her dominant hand, "It could end bloody for you."

Billy held both of his hands up to his chest, breaths heavy as he regarded her with eyes that dissected every turn of the knife in her hand. With slow and steady moves he hit the emergency stop button in the elevator, making the metal cage halt. "I don't fight with women, I don't want to hurt you." Billy knew she was capable of cutting a man's head off yet he didn't think she was a match to him in any fight. As far as he knew she had a mysterious agenda against even more mysterious people. He didn't recognize the man's card that she had stolen. He will find out though.

"Don't worry about me, Russo." The tilt of her head made her fringe move before her eyes and Anastasiya regretted not plaiting her hair into Dutch braids around her head. Though braids reminded her of darker times when her mind felt underwater, muddled with actions and thoughts that weren't entirely her own. A small devil was always perked on her shoulders, heaving them down with commands for her to execute and while she tried to fight those dark whispers, her mind wasn't willing to assist in breaking free from the grasp of the man who controlled her and so many other women. Tonight that cycle created by her once master would start to crumble.

While Billy seemed to lower his guard with his body language, Anastasiya was waiting for him to make the first move. She knew he was a predator underneath all those expensive suits he wore and the facade he was putting on for the high-class people. As she was trying to figure out his fighting techniques, Russo struck. His right hand trying to grab her knife, his body swift and efficient.

She ducked underneath his hand, turning around and raising her leg, her heel digging into his back as she forcefully pushed him against the metal wall. He let out a wince, his hands taking the brunt of the shove. Quickly regaining her footing in those annoying heels made Anastasiya also realize that she missed her combat boots so very much.

Billy let out a hiss as he turned around, "You shouldn't have done that." He looked more angry now than before. Good. His body oozed off with aggression as he tried to hit her with a fast punch she moved out of the way in the small confinement of the elevator, still trying to slip the knife from her hands. Horrendous. Billy wasn't familiar with the movements of a trained Black Widow as he tried to use the strength that he was taught in the Marines. Anastasiya on the other hand made sure not to move that much.

Rather he exerted himself than her.

With a strike to his windpipe with her elbow, Anastasiya bought herself valuable time to think as Billy instinctively reached with both hands for his throat, heaving out a muffled breath. Without waiting another second Russo pushed her against the elevator, her head hitting the cold metal as she tried to focus her eyes again. Pinning her hand with the knife against the lift, his body pressed against hers as she tried to kick him in the stomach. He blocked her knee before it could hit him as he tried to wrench the weapon from her. Her hand free from any weapons reached for his slicked-down hair, pulling the strands back as he let out another hiss, body crammed with heavy breaths.

Billy yanked the knife from her hand, thrusting it into the metal wall beside her head. The loud noise beside her ear made her squint her eyes as the man pushed his body more against her, pinning her torso between his and the elevator. Pushing her knees up she thrusted them forward. The slit of her dress ripped further against her thighs as she felt the hard planes of Russo's abdomen with her lower legs. With a cry and a forceful grip on Billy's hair, Anastasiya twisted the man's body away from her. Hand and torso falling away from the elevator, she slid down the lift's wall, backside hitting the floor as Billy did the same.

He let out a colourful curse. Pulling herself on her feet, she turned around, trying to wrench the knife from the metal plate. That was a mistake she hadn't made in a long while. Never turn your back on the opponent. With a grunt Russo pinned her from behind, strong arms circling her hands against her chest before she could pull the blade free.

Anastasiya made sure Billy wouldn't be able to headlock her. That would have been fatal. She moved her hips to the right side as she struck backwards with her elbow against his gut. The move successfully weakened his hold on her, a grunt falling from his lips and grip loosening, making it able for her to face him. She pulled her left hand into a fist and smacked him right in the nose. His body lurched backwards, head hitting the metal wall hard enough to surrender him to an unconscious state. She moved out of the way before his body fell against her as she sacked against the lift herself.

The cold of the steel touched the back of her head. The sensation was cold against the stuffy air in the elevator. She opened her mouth and cracked her jaw, her breaths deep as she tried to slow the beating of her heart. Anastasiya let out a sigh as she looked at the knocked-out man splayed on the floor. He laid on his stomach, a wet patch of dark hair shining on the back of his head, a tiny trail of blood running down behind his ear that was most probably from the hit and also well deserved.

Anastasiya stood up, pressing a button in the elevator and the number of the supposed floor Andreyev's office was on. She memorized the way to his office from the plans of the building she acquired a week ago. Getting into his office wouldn't be that hard, the bodyguards were mostly on the ground floor where the guests mingled, rather it would be difficult to find the information she needed on the ringleader. She didn't think it was on Andreyev's computer yet she still stole his card so she would be able to look through it but she would need to search his office for the hidden data.

Good thing she spilt wine all over his suit so that he was distracted at the moment and wouldn't focus on his robbed card. Before she stepped out of the elevator and onto the right floor, she butted Billy on the temple with the tilt of her knife, making sure that he wouldn't interrupt her again tonight. Anastasiya made sure though that she didn't hit him that hard, she wouldn't want him to wake up with neurological problems. She debated disposing of his body in an office but decided against it, leaving him in the elevator. If someone found him, it would be an embarrassing situation for Russo to talk himself out of. A woman who attended the gala and moved like an assassin knocked him out? Right, because anyone would believe that.

Sheathing the blade back in its place, she picked up her bag from the floor and checked out her appearance in the reflection of the steel lift. Her knuckles were red from the punch she delivered Billy, she was glad the skin didn't open on her hand. She knew they would be delicate and throb with pain by the next morning but with those thoughts, she confidently made her way to Denis's office.

Pulling the card from beneath her dress, Anastasiya looked over her shoulder to make sure no one was behind her. The hallway she walked through was clean and sterile, with bright lights buzzing above her head. She thanked the Saints that the building wasn't equipped with cameras only at the entrance. Andreyev's nameplate was hung beside a corner office door, the room dark though Anastasiya could see that floor-to-ceiling windows covered one side of the room, a big bookshelf the other and an expensive desk and chairs were placed in the middle of the room.

Looking once again over her shoulder, she closed the door behind her, making her way over to the desk in the dimmed office. She switched on the small light at the desk. The too-neat placement of expensive pens on the desk made Anastasiya pull a face. Denis Andreyev was too compulsive by the look of his desk to appear as anything but a psycho to her whereas the public saw a nice gentleman who worked with international clients to help small businesses.

Turning the computer on and pushing the identification card into the opening of the card identifier beside the screen, Anastasiya leaned back in the chair. Sifting through the boring files on the computer she let out a sign. She expected it, but disappointment ran through her body, hands shaking lightly as she pulled the card out and tucked it again between the fabric of the dress and her right clavicle bone.

Her heels tapped on the shiny floor of the office as she looked around, hands behind her back. If I were working with a man who I need to stay in contact with every day where would I hide the evidence of our communication? Anastasiya thought about Denis having these calls in his home but he spent his every waking minute in his office, she realized as she had stalked him a week ago. It was more likely they communicated here but where exactly? With what phone? Not through emails or Denis's office and personal phone. She checked all of those. No sketchy number or email address that would be noticeable as a Russian ringleader who collected little girls and shipped them off to wherever place Dreykov currently trained his widows.

Knocking on the walls by the bookshelf and moving trinkets didn't activate any hiding place like in those cartoons that Anastasiya has memories of. She let out an exhale, the clock on the wall showing that 14 minutes had already gone by. She should hurry up. Looking around the office once again, her trained eyes didn't see anything out of suspicion.

Making her way over the desk again, Anastasiya abruptly stopped. Her ears picked up a sound that was unusual in the silent office. Looking at her heeled feet, she took two steps back. The clicking of her heels made a different noise when she stepped on a specific vinyl tile. Crouching down she knocked on the tile with the hand that didn't punch Billy. Nothing happened, so she tried to press down the tile. Leaning on both her arms so that she was able to use more strength, the tile emitted a ticking sound and pushed upward.

A tiny compartment with enough space to hide things popped up. A load of cash, some company documents and a burner phone lay in the recess. Taking the phone and putting it in her bag, Anastasiya pushed the tile carefully back in its place.

Clever, but Denis wasn't as bright as he thought he was.

Anastasiya quickly turned the lamp by the desk off and made her way from the office. Pushing the door open only slightly, she eyed the hallway. Not noticing anyone she stepped out and closed the door behind her. She took a look at the elevator that was still on the same floor and Anastasiya was slightly curious if Russo was still in there. Against her better judgment, she made her way to the elevator, the doors opening at her movements.

With a deep breath she prepared for Billy to jump out yet the lift was empty. Her eyes took in the inside of the elevator but nothing stood out to her as if she and Russo didn't fight there about 20 minutes ago. Pushing him out of her mind, she focused on her mission and turned away, heading for the flight of stairs.

As she arrived at the last set of steps, Anastasiya was out of breath but still pushing forward. She couldn't use the front entrance to exit the building because of the stupid cameras. So she needed to manoeuvre her way out at the emergency exit that only had access through the staircase. What a dill-witted structure this building had.

With a relieved sigh, Anastasiya pushed the door open, cold air hitting her skin. The moon shone tonight brighter than it usually did in the city that never sleeps. She fished out her real phone and called a cab, throwing Denis's card into the dark alleyway behind her.

Somehow these two weeks took a toll on her emotionally more than the missions she usually did in the past. In truth she was never herself when she had to execute Dreykov's commands. She didn't have to deal with the burden of emotions back then. But tonight she truly did something that could help many people. Tonight she was all about saving more lives. Tomorrow she would start with the ringleader and hopefully by next week she would be able to slit her once master's throat.

Stepping into the cab with an excited strut in her step that she hadn't felt in a long time— or ever in her life, Anastasiya didn't see the man hiding in the shadows and clutching a handkerchief to the bleeding wound on his head. His eyes took in the screen of his phone. A dot on the city's map moved in the direction of where Anastasiya's cab was driving.

Good thing he slipped a minuscule tracker on the shank of her heels as she pushed him against the elevator's metal wall. Oh, he was going to enjoy messing with her.

#red room #alternative universe #assasin au #billy russo #billy russo x female reader #billy russo x reader #billy russo x you #black widow #marvel #mcu #the punisher #frank castle #matt murdock #daredevil