#daniel x reader

[el1za-beth]

The creator is already making a prequel, I can't wait to find out the backstory, it will be good

[0220611]

my devil's minion 🥹❤️‍🩹

[riverforsin]

Daniel from wayward Drabbles/hc

A/N: Hiii everyone!! I’ve come to realize that there isn’t any Daniel from wayward fics on here so I took it upon myself to make some!! Here’s some headcanons I also have a series on ao3 going!!

I haven’t written fics/hc since like 2021 so please bear with me if these suck🙂‍↕️!!

This is a request!

General head cannons about him:

♡ I like to think that he was a pretty keep to himself kinda guy who just mixed into the wrong crowd tbh.. He would have probably been more in tone with the bully’s but he never bullied anyone he was just kinda there

♡ His mom is a sweetheart only wants the best for her son but never protects him from his dad’s nasty words. His father thinks that he’s not “manly” enough that’s the main reason why he went to wilderness therapy in the first place

♡ Wears a necklace and fidgets with it if he’s alone and nervous.. idk what it is about it but I feel like he wears one

♡ Probably was in a scouting program when he was younger that his dad put him in

♡ Ok hear me out on this one… he has a very small dog plushie that his mom gave him when he was a baby.. he keeps it in his closet

♡ Uses 2 in one shampoo and conditioner…. (I know this man is a bit crusty yall)

Relationship head cannons

♡ Daniel would 100% make the first move. He’s not shy that he thinks your hot. He would pass you a note in the middle of class asking you to meet him under the bleachers after school

♡ Confession went something like this: “I think you’re really hot and lowkey I would like to take you out to get ice cream or whatever.” Tried to be nonchalant but broke when you softly giggled at him “sure.” Is all you said still collecting yourself from his nonchalant behavior he nodded and cracked a small barely visible smile, “cool, cool ok so after school tomorrow?” That’s how it went down

♡ Dropped his nonchalant behavior as you guys got closer

♡ After you guys get ice cream a few times together after school he asked you to be his partner and you of course said yes

♡ After you guys started dating he didn’t care what people thought of him and hung around you more than anyone else yes he still had his little friend group but he’s gonna hang out with his partner more than anyone

♡ Walks you to class holding your hand and when he has to leave he places a small kiss on your knuckles and walks away as you guys haven’t kissed yet

♡ He would talk to you about ANYTHING and everything you were his safe space he knew you would never see him like his parents (mainly his dad) saw him

♡ He’s a professional yapper about some video game he was playing recently but also a professional listener and will listen to anything you wanna talk about while staring at you (your lips) with a love sick smile

♡ He would mainly stay at your house away from his family and would do anything with you even if you have to go to the store he’s right there next to you and your family shopping with you guys, eating with you guys, cleaning the house too, doing laundry he’s even mowed your lawn before which might I add he looked fine doing so

♡ has a draw of his clothes in your room for whenever he spends days (sometimes weeks) there

♡ Collapses on top of you whenever your laying in bed claiming he’s just “to tired” and can’t move cuz he’s just “so comfortable”

♡ Your guys first kiss was in your living room he was staying over at your house on a weekend it was late at night and you guys were cuddled up on the couch your head resting on his chest as you watched the movie you had put on, you happen to gaze up at him but he’s already looking at you smiling softly, you leaned in closer to him the point that your breaths mingled together with a soft mumble from him “I really want to kiss you right now” and you of course encouraged him to do so “then do it..” he leaned down quite eagerly capturing your lips with his

♡ He kisses very softly at first as it’s still new in the relationship but once you guys get more comfortable with it he kisses you every time he sees you.

♡ After a while of you guys dating he told his mom about you and she wanted to meet you! I mean you’re the person who is making her son happy and well behaved for once of course she wants to meet you!

♡ The meeting went pretty well his mom is a sweetheart.

♡ You met his mom while his dad was at work but he was still worried that his dad would come home

♡ He will lay down on your bed and pull you towards him as he can’t bare being away from you in your own bed

♡ Sneaks out of his house just to see you

♡ Buys you whatever you want even tho he’s broke af he always find a cheaper version of a way to get it to you.

♡ Loves hearing you talk. like this man YEARNS for it especially if you whisper how perfect and good he is because he’s always labeled as a “bad kid” he knows you never thought of him as such

♡ He will sit there and listen to you yap about something even if you already told him the thing you’re talking about he will still let you yap again cuz he LOVES to hear you talk.

♡ If you have long hair he has a hair tie on his wrist for you

The incident.

♡ you didn’t hear about it from him you heard it from school gossip that his friend group did that to the poor kid.. you had to find out if he was involved. You didn’t see him at school that day so you went to his house knocking on the front door his mom answered.. and sent you to his room where you knocked on the door letting him know that it was you

♡ He didn’t want to face you at first scared of how you might react, scared of what he has become.

♡ He reluctantly open his door standing there like a kicked puppy after you pleaded for a bit. He let you in and you guys sat on his bed and you got the story of what happened and what he did

♡ He told you that he didn’t do anything he just recorded he knew it was wrong he told you he knew it was wrong but he was too scared to say anything.. he pleaded for your forgiveness saying he would never hurt someone.

♡ You know he would never hurt someone buy it still hurts to know he was some way involved..

♡ After a bit of more talking you guys agreed on needing a bit of time.. that he needs to work on himself but you will be there to help him work on himself you aren’t going to abandon him you love him to much

When he gets sent away

♡ again you didn’t hear about it from him (frankly because he had no clue) you went to school like normal you haven’t heard from him in a day or two nor has he shown up to school so you went to a teacher about it and asked they told you he transferred you asked more questions but they never answered you.. so you went to his house to get to the bottom of everything on why he was ignoring your calls and texts.

♡ You knocked on the door fully expecting his mom to answer and she did but she looked tired and she let out a sigh when she saw you and invited you in.

♡ You asked where he was and she told you that after what happened they think it’s best he went to wilderness therapy you listened and nodded along as she spoke and after a while you excused yourself and left.

♡ You immediately went home and look everything up and you saw articles and articles about it being bad

♡ With no clue on how to help him you just sit in bed crying for days and you start acting out…

A/N: That’s all!! If anyone wants a part 2 please lmk I don’t know how well this is gonna do I doubt it’s gonna do very well BUUUT I hope you guys like it!

[thatssomegoodsoup]

CANDYMAN x READER HCs

You said 'Candyman' five times in the mirror for shits and giggles, and he's been haunting you ever since!

It was a slow burn relationship

He is a gentleman, and is very respectful of your boundaries

You will often find random bees in your home, watching over you

Candyman is very careful with his hook around you

He will often gift you bouquets of wildflowers, paintings, and various baked honey treats (and human skulls, randomly)

He thinks you look beautiful/handsome/good-looking in whatever you wear

If you're having a nightmare, Daniel will turn it into a good dream

He's highly intelligent, but not good with empathy and emotions, so he is very blunt when offering advice or therapy

He doesn't have a favorite cuddling position, so he's fine with being either the big spoon or the small spoon (expect bees to crawl on you though)

Daniel is very charismatic, and incredibly articulate with his words, and uses these skills to fluster you with flirting (he doesn't know he's flirting; he's very clueless)

He sees you as a trophy he managed to claim (Although deep down he is scared of losing you)

If anyone ever insulted you, or is racist towards you, he will brutally kill them

Daniel's primary nicknames for you include: magnolia, ma cher, ma fleurs, honeysuckle, Mouche à miel, darling, dear, sweet praline, beignet, butterfly, sweetheart, my muse, sunflower, honey, and, occasionally, babe

Your nicknames for him include Danny, my rhapsody, honey, dear, Picasso, Da Vinci, looking-glass, and Narcissus

CREDIT FOR DIVIDER: @thecutestgrotto

I love this guy, there needs to be more fics of him ngl

Also while researching New Orleans Cajun foods for nicknames, I found out about the existence of Pralines, and they look SO GOOD

they're a type of pecan cookie I think

[amphitriteswife]

Hi!👋, I really love your writings so much😍 and I hope you're doing well rn🤗... can you do one of my request? where the fem reader was SO TIRED AND SO EXHAUSTED from work and when she was sleeping with her boyfriend(Lookism men) at night, she gave the most LOUDEST AND SCARIEST ever snores in her sleep suddenly... how will these following Lookism men would react to it: Small Daniel, James/DG, Samuel, Jake, Gun, Goo, Johan and Zack?? 🥺🥺🥺🙏🙏

Thank you for requesting me!💗🌺💗 sorry if its a little short!

Lookism x S/O who snores

🍬 Yeah he’s not getting any sleep that night. He’d probably toss and turn a little, sighing and actually contemplate a few options. He’ll either sleep somewhere else, but that might risk him waking you up and he doesn’t want to do that. Not when you’re so exhausted and finally get that one moment of peace you’ve been craving for a while. So he’ll just deal with it👍

🍬 James is a pretty light sleeper imo, at least that’s how i’d hc him. And no he won’t tell you about that he didn’t get any sleep. He’ll just ask you if you’re better now and move on from the topic. If you do however question him, he’ll just give you a smile and probably give you a vague answer. On the outside he’d seem fine. No eyebags or anything. But, he would however sleep a little early the day after.

🍬 if he feels extremely petty for some reason, he may record you, but that depends on how frequently it happens. If it’s one time he probably wouldn’t have done it. But if it’s frequently he’ll make sure at least have one video. It’s not of your face though. It’s probably a video of him laying on his pillow with a deadpanned expression, almost falling asleep but getting woken up by your loud scary snores. At some point in the video his annoyance would probably turn to being impressed.

🚬Oh hell nah he’s saying something the moment he sees you bro it’s on sight.

🚬 I don’t think Gun is a light sleeper, but he wouldn’t be a heavy sleeper either. He’d probably have difficulty falling asleep or maybe wake up a few times in the night to drink water (stay hydrated guys) and if you do snore more often he’d tell you pretty straight forward. He’s not rude about it. Just curious if you’re aware and tell you to sleep in a proper position.

🚬 If he falls asleep before you and you snore afterwards, he doesn’t have any problem with it. He’ll sleep normally and if he does wake up in the night to grab water he’ll adjusting your position to make sure you don’t snore. If it’s not cause of your position then he takes his L.

🚬 if you fall asleep before him. That’s going to be tuff for him. He’ll probably sleep on the couch, not that he minds, he has slept on couches before (i think in one of ptj’s animations?) and he doesn’t mind it at all. Closer to the sink to drink water. If he does however decides to stay in the bed and if you wake up before him, you can see his sour sleeping face. He’ll deny having one tho. So take a picture when you have the chance to do so!!

💸 look, he really, really, REALLY loves you okay? He does. But he’s a sensitive sleeper okay? He knows you’re tired, hence why he feels guilty even bringing it up. But he’s you genuinely scared hij yhe first time it happend! He jolted awake and thought he was overreacting when he saw you asleep. But when he closed his eyes and heard it again, he screamed, looked at you again, and then be surprised you didn’t wake up from his scream.

‘whats loud, scary, but doesn’t seem to be aware of anything.’

‘I don’t know.’

‘You.’

💸 when the initial shock settles, you won’t hear the end of it. He’ll use it as an inside joke for the two of you. And let me tell you, he finds it F.U.N.NY. He’ll tell and remind you every chance he gets. Sometimes he’ll pretend to be asleep and also fake snore just like you.

🪓 he’ll chop you with his axe for snoring too loud.

✌️ He’s genuinly unbothered by it? I feel like Jake would be a deep sleeper so if you happen to do it when he’s already asleep he won’t have any idea it even happend. If you’ll ask him the day after if he’d bothered by it he’ll just stare at you like ‘ :O’

✌️ if he ever knows about it its because you tell him, or he finds you asleep. He doesn’t really have an opinion on it? He just thinks it’s the most normal thing in the world and would probably just tug you in with a kiss om the forehead.

💪if you tell him it’s because you were exhausted and that’s usually why you snore. And why its so scary loud, he’ll feel very bad and try to make you as comfortable as possible when you sleep.

🤓 He’d snore with you deadass and the only reason he even knows you snore is because he’d probably be awake in his second body then.

🤓 also doesn’t care if you snore or not, he thinks it’s its cute above anything else and would probably tell you so. He’d think it’s the cutest thing ever and probably feel flustered about it too. He wouldn’t tell you that he knows though, it’s his secret treasure.

🤓 you’ll probably hear him snoring more than you tbh, especially if its not a one time thing

💪 Honestly, bro wouldn’t even know cause he’s never home- he’s usually out all night doing side quests. He’s not really vocal about what he does he just remains to be a mysterious void.

💪 BUTTTTTT if he DOES. Then he’d just give you a long side glance, maybe raise an eyebrow. But he wouldn’t say much about it. If it does really bother him for whatever reason he’ll just sleep somewhere else or sleeps trough it lowkkk cause i can see him sleeping like a rock.

✌️ doesn’t even mention it the next day tho, if you ask him about it he’d be super casual about it. Nonchalant even? As long as if doesn’t interfere with his plan to be king💯

🐶 he doesn’t sleep cause he’s too busy robbing ppl of their shoes

🐶 he also doesn’t have a house✌️💔

✨ Genuinely scares awake and lets out a terrified scream. Clutching his chest and all. Thought a demon came for him no offense tho. PTSD from that one scary lady that made him piss himself

✨ honestly bro would wonder how you even produce such sounds. Ofc he loves you to death, but your snoring may scare him to death💔✌️

✨ He’d probably ask you the next day what that even was about, and when you tell him the story he’ll be less freaked out and probably hug you and do something about you feeling exhausted. Or at least try to do something about it.

Thanks for reading love you guys💙💙

[dljcem]

daniel larusso fluff alphabet? <33

— ❀⋆˙ JUNA

daniel larusso x gn!reader

tags: fluff alphabet, not proofread, written with karate kid 1 daniel in mind

“i don’t have to think; with you, there’s no pretending.”

a- admiration (what do they absolutely adore about you?)

he loves how you can stand up for yourself. he’s more than happy to step in when needed—show off a few of his trusty karate moves—but it’s always captivating to see you hold your own. the fire in your eyes is enough to make him melt.

b- body (what is their favorite part of your body?)

he likes your eyes—how they soften with concern after his rougher practices, how they light up with excitement when he shows up unannounced. he could stare into them all day and never get tired. but he’s still a teenage boy at heart, so… he thinks your thighs are pretty nice, too.

c - cuddling (how do they like to cuddle?)

his preference is holding you from behind—wrapping his arms around your waist, resting his head in the curve where your neck meets your shoulder. there’s something so intimate about it—it makes him feel soft and a little mushy inside. he’s not opposed to being held, either.

d - domestic (do they want to settle down? how are they at cooking and cleaning?)

he hasn’t given the future much thought—life in the present keeps him plenty busy—but he’s always known he wants to settle down someday. get married, have a kid or two, maybe a dog just because. it’s one of those certainties he’s carried with him for as long as he can remember. and when he meets you, something shifts. suddenly, it’s not just a distant dream—it’s a real, tangible future.

he’s not exactly skilled in the kitchen or all that handy with chores, but he’s more than willing to try. even if it ends with the floor soaked or eggs somehow stuck to the ceiling.

e - ending (if they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?)

he wouldn’t take it lightly. even if he’s not in love with you anymore, he still respects you more than anyone else. he’s not the type to ghost or pull away quietly—he’d want to talk, even if his voice shakes the whole way through.

f - fiancee (how do they feel about commitment? how quick would they want to get married?)

he’s all for commitment. when it comes to relationships, he’s headstrong—and when he knows you’re the one, he’s all in. no hesitation, no second-guessing. as for timing, he’d probably pop the question not long after you both turn eighteen. he doesn’t see the point in waiting around. he’s certain about you, and he’s not afraid to show it.

g - gentle (how gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?)

he’s usually playful, full of teasing grins and comments—but when it matters, he can be gentle. physically, he’s always careful with you; not because he doubts your strength, but because he loves you. and he wants to treat you with the utmost respect, always.

h - hugs (do they like hugs? how often do they do it? what are their hugs like?)

he absolutely adores hugs. they become something of a tradition between the two of you—a wordless hello, goodbye, i love you, and everything in between. on ordinary days, his hugs are light—a quick wrap of his arms around your waist. but in the moments that matter, he holds on tighter, buries his face in your shoulder, and lets himself sink into the warmth of your skin.

i - i love you (how fast do they say the l-word?)

as soon as he knows, he says it. no second thoughts, no hesitation—it just slips out, unplanned but entirely genuine.

j - jealousy (how jealous do they get? what do they do when they’re jealous?)

he’s driven more by his heart than his head, so jealousy comes easily to him. it’s usually fleeting—just a heat-of-the-moment reaction—but it happens more often than he’d like to admit. when it does, he tends to get a little clingy: hugging you from behind, slipping a hand into your back pocket, anything to keep you close.

k - kisses (what are their kisses like? where do they like to kiss you? where do they like to be kissed?)

kisses turn into a habit between the two of you. soft ones in greeting, deeper ones as good luck charms before his tournaments. he’s a simple guy—he prefers kissing you on the lips, though your cheek is a close second. as for him, he’s not picky. kiss him anywhere, and he’ll melt. having your lips on him feels like a blessing, no matter what.

l - little ones (how are they around children?)

he’s great at entertaining them—cracking jokes, making silly faces, playing games. but when it comes to calming them down or scolding them? yeah… that part doesn’t come as naturally.

m - morning (how are mornings spent with them?)

mornings with him are slow and lazy. he loves his sleep, so getting out of bed is always a struggle. most days he’ll wrap his arms around you and plead for just a few more minutes. on busy mornings, the two of you move through your routine together—brushing your teeth in the same mirror, sharing breakfast, maybe even squeezing in a shower before heading out.

n - night (how are nights spent with them?)

nights with him are nothing short of comforting. he’s usually worn out by the end of the day, so his playful energy softens into something gentler. he’ll pull you close, half-listen to you talk with sleepy eyes, or run his fingers through your hair while telling you about his own day. it’s his favorite way to unwind—just the two of you, warm and safe.

o - open (when would they start revealing things about themselves? do they say everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?)

he doesn’t always mean to, but he’s an open book the second he realizes how safe he feels around you. it doesn’t come out all at once, though—he shares things gradually, in passing comments and deep conversations.

p - patience (how easily angered are they?)

his emotions tend to get the best of him, so he can get frustrated pretty easily. but after a few early arguments, he learns to rein it in—when to bite his tongue, when to walk away, and when to simply listen. all because he cares about you that much.

q - quizzes (how much would they remember about you? do they remember every little detail you mention in passing, or do they kind of forget everything?)

he remembers all the little things his brain latches onto—your coffee order, your favorite color, the way you fidget when you’re nervous. but birthdays and anniversaries? total blank sometimes. it’s like his brain forgets how to function when it actually counts.

r - remember (what is their favorite moment in your relationship?)

your first date means the world to him. it was the night everything shifted—the night he realized how much better he was when he was with you. you went to an arcade. laughed until your stomachs hurt, took goofy photo booth pictures, shared a giant bottle of lemonade, and kissed—giggled into each other’s mouths with the taste of sugar and citrus on your lips.

s - security (how protective are they? how would they protect you? how would they like to be protected?)

he’s extremely protective. if someone even looks at you wrong, his body’s already on high alert—jaw tight, eyes sharp, muscles tensed like he’s ready to step in. he’d argue for you without hesitation, and if it came to it, he’d fight for you too.

being protected isn’t his favorite—it bruises his pride more than he’ll admit—but when you cheer him on or take his side in a fight, it makes his heart flutter.

t - try (how much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?)

he puts minimal effort into the everyday. over time, dates become part of your routine—grocery runs, sunrise bike rides, walks where you don’t really go anywhere but still end up holding hands. but for birthdays and anniversaries? he goes all out. decorations, plans, handwritten notes, the whole thing. he wants those memories to stick.

u - ugly (what would be some bad habits of theirs?)

his communication sucks at first. when he’s upset, he shuts down completely—goes quiet, pulls away, avoids you entirely like it’ll somehow fix things. he means well; he just doesn’t know how to talk about things without feeling overwhelmed or guilty. it takes time, and a lot of patience, but he slowly gets better.

v - vanity (how concerned are they with their looks?)

he keeps himself clean and his hair in check, but beyond that, he doesn’t stress. says he’s “effortlessly charming” with a grin that both annoys and endears you. and honestly? he kind of is.

w - whole (would they feel incomplete without you?)

completely. you’re not just his partner—you’re part of his rhythm, his daily routine. he kisses you before class, eats lunch with you when he can, calls you before bed. when you’re not there, everything feels a little off. like he’s going through the motions without the part that makes them matter.

x - xtra (a random headcanon for them.)

even though he’s soft with you most of the time, he loves sparring. something about the fire in your eyes when you’re trying to win makes his heart race. he never really minds losing either—because losing means you pinning him down, grinning with that victorious glint in your eye.

y - yuck (what are some things they wouldn’t like, either in general or in a partner?)

he can’t stand people who play games with feelings. loyalty matters a lot to him—he gives it fully and expects the same in return. if someone’s flaky, noncommittal, or treats love like it’s disposable, he’s out. no second chances.

z - zzz (what is a sleep habit of theirs?)

he sleeps like a starfish—and somehow, you’re always the surface he lands on. one leg slung over your stomach, an arm across your chest, his face tucked into your shoulder. it’s sweet until you wake up sore and stiff and he just blinks at you like he has no clue in the whole wide world.

[alldthoughtsinmyhead]

Witch's Brew.🧪

He died a god. Came back a man. But when he couldn't get it up, you went to a witch for help. Now he’s feral, too big to fit, and he won’t stop fucking you. 🔞 Daniel Hall x Reader | The Sandman Smut warning: Smut.

"I'm sorry," Daniel whispered as he pushed off you.

His shaft, once magnificent--majestic in both length and girth--slipped out of you in a limp caricature of its former glory.

It had been months since he came back from the dead, but the beast that once made you howl in ecstasy hadn’t returned with him.

He had chosen to stay in the waking world with you. A beautiful choice. A romantic one. But one that did little to restore his strength.

"It's okay," you sighed, stroking his chest. "We'll try again tomorrow." But he was already fast asleep.

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

You were rifling idly through the drawers in his office the next day when you found a small, creased parchment tucked beneath some papers. A witch’s contact card.

Your brow shot up.

A few hours later, you sat in a dimly lit room, explaining your predicament to a middle-aged woman with silver locs and an amused gleam in her eye. She listened with a mix of empathy and intrigue as she stirred a shimmering brew in a copper kettle shaped like a raven’s beak.

Finally, she poured the potion into a dark bottle and handed it to you.

“Just a sip,” she said with a warm smile, “unless you’re feeling brave.”

But you were already tucking the bottle carefully into your purse, blowing her a distracted kiss on your way out. You didn’t hear her final words trailing behind you.

Daniel had just finished dinner when you handed him the bottle.

“What is this?” he asked, eyeing the unmarked vial, then you.

“For your strength,” you said, shrugging innocently. “Bottoms up.”

He uncapped it and downed it in one go.

An evil grin spread across your face as you undid the belt of your silk wrap dress, revealing the sultry lingerie you’d picked out for the occasion.

Daniel’s gaze darkened as it traveled over your form. One snap of his fingers, and the delicate fabric you’d worn for him dissolved like mist.

His desire for you had never been in question. Getting his man to function had been the problem.

Until now.

When he stood to undress, your eyes dropped to his groin- and your jaw dropped with it.

It looked… angry.

Thick veins snaked along his shaft. It pulsed, growing by the second, engorged to a size bigger than the memory you’d been mourning.

Longer. Thicker. Streaked with veins.

When his fingers brushed your cheeks, your knees dropped in reverence.

"Welcome home, daddy," You whispered lustily before planting a kiss at the very tip.

Daniel's hand found your scalp, at first tenderly massaging it, then tightened boderline painfully as you slobbered all over him. His velvet thickness filled your mouth and stretched your jaw as you struggled to take as much of him as you could, slightly gagging in the process.

His deep groan reverberated through you, sending pulses of pleasure to your weeping core.

When he pulled you off him and lifted you, you wiped your tear-streaked face, wrapping an arm around his shoulder as you worked the kinks from your aching jaw.

He carried you into the bedroom, his bobbing dick leading the way.

Tossing you on the bed, he covered your body with his, slipping his tongue into your mouth as his hand slid down to your slit.

Little mewls escaped your parted lips. Your hips lifted as his thumb ground into your clit, drawing slow circles around your sensitive nub, while a single finger dipped into your sheath.

A few pumps more, and he added a second finger, stretching you this way and that, prepping for the stiff, fat snake he had between his legs.

You tore your lips from his, bucking up against him as you begged in sheer desperation:

“Daniel, please. I’m ready. Please, just put it in.”

His eyes--dark with lust--crinkled in amusement as he continued to pump his fingers into you, grunting in approval when you finally clenched around his digits with a small cry, liquid gushing out to coat your thighs.

“You first,” he moaned into your ear. “Always.”

Fisting himself, he rubbed his tip against your slit, coating it in your slick juice before pushing in.

Your legs fell further apart as your fingers dug into his shoulders.

He was big--much bigger than you remembered--and as aroused as you were, it hurt a little to take him.

He made short pumps, fucking you with half his length until you started to writhe against him, clawing his back in unabashed pleasure.

Grabbing your hips, he slammed the rest of his length into you with a short stab of pain, holding himself still until the pain passed and you started squeezing around him again.

His body engulfed yours, kissing your neck and murmuring filthy, nearly unintelligible words of encouragement into your ears, as he rained battering thrusts on your willing sex.

You were starting to sob when he ground against you, his tip lodged firmly against your womb.

He raised his head to look at you, wiping the tears from your face as he smiled.

“That’s my girl. You always take me.”

He held still as he kissed you, giving you time to come down from your high. Then his hands trailed down your thighs, lifting and wrapping your legs high around his waist.

You looped your arms around his shoulders, hanging on for the ride of your life.

He fed his girth into you, letting you feel every ridge, every thick vein lining him as he massaged your core. Then he picked up the pace as he started to fuck you.

Hard.

Punctuated.

Thrusts.

Each slam landed with a grunt, his arms wrapping around you to lock your body to his. His hips pounded down in relentless strokes; deep, unforgiving thrusts that had you gasping.

Your eyes rolled back, your mouth frozen in a silent scream.

Your third orgasm hit like a wave--starting deep in your core and rippling outward, flooding your body with warm, pulsing shocks.

He pushed in one last time and went still, groaning your name like it hurt as he spilled litres of hot cream deep inside you.

Your limbs slackened, and you fell back onto the mattress, utterly spent. He withdrew and padded off, returning with a damp towel to clean you up--wiping your folds with delicate care.

You sighed, eyes fluttering shut as you basked in the aftercare.

Until the rhythm of his wipes changed.

Slower. Lingering.

Your eyes flew open. You looked down at him at the exact moment he looked up--and held your gaze--as he lowered his head between your legs.

The first flick of his tongue sent an electric jolt straight to your brain, and you instinctively tried to pull away. You were sore, stretched from his new size.

But he held your waist, keeping you in place as he pressed kisses and licked softly at your oversensitive pith.

...until you felt yourself leaking again.

He grinned up at you, then flipped you over, lifting your butt like an offering.

You yelped when his palm landed on your ass- just as he slid back into your stretched, still-aching hole.

This time, his pace was steady. His hand reached under to rub your clit, circling until he felt you tremble. Then he gripped your hips so tight you were sure he’d leave bruises, pounding into you like a man possessed.

He jerked once, twice--then pulled out.

You tried to drop back down onto the bed, but his grip kept you suspended.

And for the first time, you panicked.

Looking back over your shoulder, you saw it-

He was still hard.

“D-Daniel?” Your voice shook. “I’m sore.”

His hands slid up to part your cheeks.

“I know...” he growled, voice tight and strained. “I can’t help it. I'm sorry."

Then he bent down... and kissed the tiny, puckered star.

“It’s a good thing you were built to take me,” he rasped, then spat into it, dipping a finger as he started to prep your third hole for his entry.

He added his tongue to his finger, making you moan helplessly into the pillow.

Bloody witch brew.

Far away in her cottage, the gray-haired witch cackled as she watched Daniel fuck you into a coma on her crystal ball.

"Humans," she murmured as she sipped her tea, "they never follow instructions."

tag: Someone asked for Jacob Anderson smut. I don't know their account so I couldn't tag them. I hope you're reading this and I hope you like it.

Read in dark mode on the site version here. Don't forget to change to desktop view if you're using a mobile. Thank you for reading!!🤗

[dying-inside-but-its-classy]

The Marriage Clause | DR3

Daniel Ricciardo x Princess! Reader

Summary: A royal proposal forces Daniel to reconsider everything—love, legacy, and the future he thought was lost.

Warning(s): Sad Daniel, Existential Crisis, Daniel is drunk, and he's feeling emotions. Angst, self doubt. Hurt/comfort.

Part 1 ~Series Masterlist~

"And in the end, I guess I had to fall, always find my place among the ashes..."

Daniel Ricciardo sat slumped at the far end of the dimly lit club in Singapore, a glass of something strong cradled loosely in his hand. The music pounded, the beat reverberating through his chest, but it only emphasized the emptiness that clung to him like a second skin.

Around him, the world moved in vibrant chaos—laughter, shouts, people dancing like they had no tomorrow. For him, though, the future felt more like an unwelcome specter than an invitation.

He sipped his drink, the burn doing little to mask the bitterness lodged in his throat. He had tried to lose himself in the noise, in the anonymity of the crowd, but it hadn’t worked.

Nothing could drown out the screaming doubts that had taken root in his mind.

What’s left for me now?

The question haunted him.

His career, once filled with promise and triumph, now felt like a shadow of its former self. For years, he had believed he could fight his way back to the top, that he could reclaim the joy he had always found in the driver’s seat.

But after his ill-fated moves from Red Bull to Renault, McLaren, and now RB, the narrative was slipping further and further out of his hands.

He drained the rest of his drink, the ice clinking hollowly against the glass, and gestured for another.

The bartender, a woman with an easy smile and tired eyes, hesitated for a moment before obliging. She didn’t need to ask if he was okay; the answer was written all over his slouched posture and bloodshot eyes.

It wasn’t just that he’d been dropped from AlphaTauri—it was the finality of it, the quiet, unspoken agreement that the paddock no longer saw him as one of the greats.

The whispers about younger talent, sharper drivers, and fresher prospects grew louder every day.

Enjoy the butterflies...

He’d always believed in that—letting the nerves fuel him, embracing the excitement of the unknown. The butterflies had been his compass, guiding him through every challenge and every victory.

But now? Now, they felt like stones, weighing him down until he couldn’t even breathe.

Daniel signaled for another drink, slurring his thanks when the bartender placed it in front of him. He raised the glass halfway to his lips, pausing as his reflection stared back at him in the amber liquid.

The lines around his eyes seemed deeper, his usually wide, easy smile now replaced with a grim line.

He barely recognized himself.

The club was suffocating. The laughter and clinking glasses around him grated on his nerves, the music pounding in time with the ache behind his eyes. He didn’t belong here. He didn’t belong anywhere.

“Get out of my way,” someone barked nearby.

Daniel’s head snapped up, his gaze locking on a man pushing past another near the bar. The stranger was belligerent, shoving his way through the crowd like he owned the place. When their eyes briefly met, Daniel’s jaw clenched.

For a fleeting moment, the simmering frustration inside him bubbled to the surface. He almost stood, fists itching to swing, the idea of a fight feeling like the only outlet for the anger twisting in his chest. But before he could act, the stranger turned and disappeared into the crowd.

“Not worth it,” Daniel muttered to himself, though he wasn’t sure he believed it.

He tossed a crumpled bill onto the counter and stumbled out of the club, the cool night air hitting him like a slap. The world outside was quieter, though the distant hum of traffic and the murmur of voices from nearby streets still filled the silence.

His feet carried him aimlessly, his mind replaying the pivotal moments of his career like a cruel highlight reel.

The cheers when he’d stood on the top step of the podium, the champagne spraying in celebration. The sheer adrenaline of pulling off daring overtakes that had fans screaming his name. The pride in his parents’ faces when he’d first signed with Red Bull.

Daniel swallowed hard, his throat burning as though he’d swallowed glass shards.

And then came the cracks. The team orders that had left him feeling invisible. The confidence being slowly eroded in Redbull, heartbreak of leaving Renault, the humiliation of McLaren, and now the quiet resignation that came with being let go by AlphaTauri.

He wasn’t just questioning his career anymore—he was questioning himself. Had he made the right choices? Had he stayed too long? Or worse,

Had he never been good enough in the first place?

He stumbled to a stop, leaning heavily against a lamppost. The weight in his chest felt unbearable, like he was caving in on himself.

Daniel Ricciardo, the prince that never got to be a king

“Get it together,” he muttered, though the words rang hollow.

As he pushed off the post, his blurry gaze landed on a figure in the distance. A woman sat alone on a park bench, her outline illuminated by the soft, flickering light of a streetlamp. She was hunched over, clutching a bag tightly to her chest. Her head was bowed, her shoulders stiff.

Daniel blinked, his drunken haze momentarily clearing as concern pricked at him. It wasn’t unusual to see people sitting alone at night, but something about her stillness felt wrong.

“Hey,” he called out, his voice hoarse.

The woman didn’t move.

He hesitated, glancing around the empty park. The streets were quiet now, the chaotic energy of the club feeling miles away. Taking a deep breath, he crossed the path toward her, his footsteps crunching softly against the gravel.

“Are you okay?” he asked, stopping a few steps away. His tone was gentle, almost cautious, as though afraid to startle her.

For a moment, she didn’t respond. Then, slowly, she lifted her head, her eyes meeting his and for a moment, Daniel forgot how to breathe.

Her eyes were red-rimmed, likely from tears she had no interest in hiding, and her cheeks were flushed—whether from alcohol or emotion, he couldn’t tell. Strands of dark hair framed her face, messy and windblown, yet there was an elegance about her that made him pause. Even in her disheveled state, she had a presence that demanded attention.

“Go away,” she said, her voice low and hoarse, yet still carrying a sharpness that cut through the night.

Daniel blinked, startled but not deterred. Instead, he lowered himself onto the bench beside her without a word. The wood creaked under his weight, but the silence between them remained unbroken.

She didn’t look at him, and for a long moment, neither spoke.

He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees and letting his hands dangle between them. The cool night air wrapped around them, bringing with it the faint scent of rain and city dust.

His gaze fixed on the gravel path in front of them, though his mind wandered far beyond the park.

Minutes passed—or maybe hours. Time felt irrelevant.

Daniel’s thoughts drifted, slipping back to memories he’d tried to drink away. The sound of the engines roaring, the flash of the checkered flag, the overwhelming surge of adrenaline when he pulled off an impossible move. It all felt so distant now, like a dream he’d woken up from too soon.

He almost didn’t notice when she moved. Her voice cut through his haze.

“Why are you here?” she asked, her tone a mix of curiosity and exhaustion.

Daniel turned his head to look at her, catching the way the streetlamp’s light played across her features. There was a fire in her eyes, buried beneath layers of hurt, but it was there.

“Same reason you are,” he replied, his voice soft but firm. “Questioning everything in my life right now.”

She gave a sound somewhere between a chuckle and a scoff, shaking her head as if amused by the absurdity of it all.

For the first time in what felt like hours, Daniel felt a spark of energy—a faint flicker of who he used to be. He straightened, turning to face her more fully.

“I’m Daniel, by the way,” he said, his voice breaking the quiet between them.

The woman raised an eyebrow, her expression unreadable. “What are you doing?” she asked, her accent faint but noticeable—a lilt that made her words carry more weight than she probably intended.

Daniel tilted his head, caught off guard by the question. “Introducing myself,” he said simply.

“Why?”

He hesitated, caught between honesty and humor. Eventually, a faint smile tugged at his lips, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “I don’t know. It seemed like the polite thing to do.”

She gave him a long look, her gaze sharp enough to make him feel like she was dissecting him piece by piece. Then, with a shrug, she leaned back against the bench.

“I don’t want to talk,” she said flatly, her arms crossing over her chest.

Daniel smirked, leaning back as well, his shoulder brushing hers just enough to feel the contact. “You already are talking to me.”

Her head turned sharply, her expression somewhere between annoyed and intrigued. She studied him for a moment, then let out a quiet breath.

“Fair point,” she muttered, almost grudgingly.

Daniel chuckled, the sound dry and low in his chest. “You’ve got a name, or are you just going to keep me guessing?”

She rolled her eyes but didn’t hesitate this time. “Y/N,” she said simply, her voice steady now.

“Y/N,” he repeated, letting the name linger on his tongue. It felt foreign yet familiar, like it held a weight he couldn’t yet understand. “Nice to meet you Y/N.”

"Pleasure....Daniel"

Daniel let the silence stretch again, unsure of how to follow up her simple introduction. Her name lingered in his mind like an unsolved puzzle, but he didn’t want to push her.

The night was cool, the faint hum of distant cars blending with the occasional rustle of leaves.

“So,” he ventured after a moment, his tone gentle but probing. “Why are you actually here?”

Y/N’s gaze remained fixed on the horizon, her expression unreadable. She didn’t answer right away, and for a second, Daniel thought she might not answer at all. Then, with a sigh, she spoke.

“Running away from life,” she said, her words clipped and final, like they were a full stop to any further questioning.

Daniel tilted his head, curiosity flickering in his tired eyes. “That’s... vague,” he said, his tone half-teasing, half-genuine.

She didn’t respond, didn’t even look at him, her body language a clear signal that she had no intention of elaborating. The quiet settled between them again, heavier this time, but Daniel wasn’t ready to let it win.

Maybe it was the alcohol in his system, or maybe it was the way her presence seemed to pull at something deep inside him, but he suddenly felt the need to talk. To say something—anything—that might coax her out of her silence.

“Well, if you won’t talk about your life,” he said, leaning back against the bench, “I’ll tell you about mine.”

Y/N glanced at him briefly, her brow furrowing in faint surprise, but she didn’t interrupt.

“Let’s see,” Daniel began, running a hand through his hair, his voice taking on a self-deprecating edge. “I used to be an F1 driver. A pretty decent one, if I do say so myself.” He paused, letting the words hang in the air for a moment. “Well... I thought I was decent. Turns out the universe had other plans.”

He gave a short laugh, bitter and hollow, and Y/N’s gaze shifted slightly, her interest piqued despite herself.

“I was living the dream, you know? Traveling the world, driving the fastest cars, winning races...I loved the pressure, the nerves, the thrill of it all. But somewhere along the way...” He trailed off, his voice faltering. “I don’t know. I guess I lost it.”

Y/N remained silent, her eyes on him now, but her expression unreadable. Daniel didn’t seem to notice—or maybe he just didn’t care. The words kept coming, a steady stream of thoughts and memories spilling out of him like water from a cracked dam.

“It all started going downhill a few years ago. Made some bad decisions. Switched teams when I probably shouldn’t have. Thought I’d be happier somewhere else, you know? But it just... it didn’t work out. And then it kept not working out. One thing after another. Injuries, missed opportunities, bad luck...” He shook his head, his jaw tightening. “I used to be someone. And now...”

He gestured vaguely, his hand sweeping out to encompass the park, the bench, the emptiness around them. “Now I’m just some guy sitting on a bench, talking to a stranger because I don’t know what else to do.”

For a moment, he fell silent, the weight of his own words settling heavily over him. He rubbed a hand over his face, his fingers pressing into his temples as if he could physically push the thoughts away.

“Sorry,” he said finally, his voice quieter now. “Didn’t mean to dump all that on you.”

Y/N tilted her head, her expression softening just a fraction. “You talk a lot,” she said, her tone neutral, though there was a faint hint of amusement in her eyes. She didn't say it to be mean, Daniel can sense that, she sounds like she just made an observation.

Daniel chuckled, the sound dry and tired. “Yeah. Guess I do. Comes with the territory, I suppose. Always had to be the ‘funny guy,’ the one who kept things light. Not much room for silence in my world.”

Y/N’s lips quirked in the faintest of smiles, but she didn’t say anything. Instead, she leaned back against the bench, her posture relaxing just slightly.

It wasn’t much, but it was enough to make Daniel feel like maybe—just maybe—he’d earned the right to stay.

“You’re good at listening,” he said after a moment, his voice tinged with a faint note of gratitude.

Y/N shrugged. “Sometimes it’s better to listen than to talk.”

“Yeah, well,” Daniel said, leaning forward again, his elbows resting on his knees. “If you ever feel like talking, I’m here. For what it’s worth.”

She didn’t respond, her gaze returning to the horizon, but the silence between them felt different now. Less heavy, more... companionable.

Suddenly, Y/N moves to face him completely, her coat moving smoothly with her, she opens her mouth, breaking the silence she had so carefully preserved until now.

“I know what Formula 1 is,” she said, her voice soft but firm, carrying a deliberate weight. “I wouldn’t say I’m an expert, but I know enough—Red Bull, McLaren, Williams, Ferrari… those names are hard to miss.”

Daniel turned his head, slightly startled. “Wait, really? You know about F1?”

She cast him a sideways glance, a faint flicker of amusement in her otherwise somber expression. “I’ve heard of you, too.”

His brows shot up, a faint smile tugging at his lips. “You have?”

“Sure,” she said dryly. "It's hard to miss someone whose nick name on track is 'honey badger' and apparently is a 'high performance athlete'."

Daniel barked out a laugh, the unexpected humor cutting through his drunken haze. “Fair enough.”

For a moment, the air between them lightened, the heavy shadows of their individual burdens receding slightly. But her expression turned serious again as she shifted her gaze to the ground.

“I’m from a small country in the Arabian Peninsula,” she began, her tone quiet but steady. “You’ve probably never heard of it.”

Daniel leaned in, intrigued. “Try me.”

She hesitated, her fingers gripping the edge of the bench as though steadying herself.

"Have you ever heard of Al-Miraj?"

Daniel hesitated, "Um, I was never good at geography?"

She chuckled, raising an eyebrow as if telling him that he just proved her point. He winced.

"Al- Miraj is the name of my country, in the past, we were a part of the Kingdom of Saudi Arabia itself, but we gained our own sovereignty and became Al-Miraj, and like Saudia Arabia, our country also has a royal family that decides on everything happening in the country"

Then, with a resigned sigh, she said, "My family… they’re the royals. My father is the king.”

Daniel blinked, his drunken mind taking an extra beat to process her words. “Wait, wait, hold on. Are you telling me you’re… you’re a princess?”

She let out a dry laugh, the sound tinged with bitterness. “Some princess I am,” she said, shaking her head. “I can’t even do my duty to my people.”

Daniel leaned back, his curiosity piqued, his incredulity at meeting a literal princess taking a back seat in his mind. “What do you mean? What duties?”

Y/N exhaled deeply, staring straight ahead. “My country is...unique. It’s the only secular nation in the region. Officially, we have no state religion, though Islam is deeply ingrained in our culture. Most people follow Allah, but the government has worked hard to maintain neutrality. It’s a balancing act—one that’s never easy, and my father has always been proud that our family has upholded the title and the respect of our people.”

“Wow,” Daniel said, his brows furrowing. “That sounds… intense.”

“It is,” she agreed. “Our population is small but growing, and with that growth comes new challenges. We don’t have the oil reserves or increasing wealth of our neighbors, so we rely on tourism and trade to sustain us. But there’s no single thing that makes us stand out. We don’t have a… a USP, as you might call it.”

Daniel nodded, his drunken curiosity keeping him engaged. “And it’s your job to figure all that out?”

She gave a humorless chuckle. “More or less. My father is getting older, and he wants to see me settled before he… before it’s too late. He believes the country needs a strong queen—someone who can embody both the traditions we hold dear and the progress we aspire to."

Daniel tilted his head, studying her. “And you don’t think you’re that person?”

Her laugh was bitter this time, her voice tinged with self-reproach. “I cannot be the queen they want, because, for a new sovereign to ascend to the thrown, there is a clause, they must be married, which I am not. In not marrying a man, I am also not fulfilling what could be my father's last wish for me. I can’t be the daughter my father deserves. I’m failing on all fronts.”

Daniel frowned, his heart aching at the raw honesty in her words. “That’s a lot of pressure.”

“It is,” she admitted. “I was supposed to be at a gala tonight, mingling with diplomats and investors, smiling for the cameras, pretending I have everything under control. Instead, I’m here. Running away from my responsibilities.”

Daniel leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “What’s the country like? The people?”

Her face softened slightly, her gaze distant as though she were picturing it in her mind. “They’re kind. Resilient. They’ve endured so much over the years, but they’ve never given up hope. They deserve better than someone like me.”

“That’s not fair,” Daniel said firmly. “You’re here, beating yourself up about it. That means you care. You want what’s best for them.”

She turned to look at him, her expression unreadable. “Maybe. But caring isn’t enough.”

They sat in silence again, the weight of her words settling over them like a heavy fog. Daniel finally broke the silence, his voice softer this time.

“Well, I don’t know much about being a princess—or a queen, for that matter. But I do know what it’s like to feel like you’re not good enough.”

Y/N’s gaze flicked to him, her eyes searching his face. “And how do you deal with it?”

Daniel shrugged, a wry smile tugging at his lips. “Not very well, apparently. But… talking helps. Even if it’s to a stranger on a park bench.”

She let out a small laugh, the sound lighter than before. “Touché.”

Encouraged by her reaction, Daniel leaned back against the bench, his curiosity getting the better of him again. “So… what kind of problems is your country facing? Besides the tourism thing.”

Y/N hesitated, her fingers fidgeting with the edge of her sleeve. “The usual—risk of poverty, no means to increase GDP, a slowly growing population with limited resources. My father has always dreamed of turning our country into a cultural hub, a place where East meets West. But we don’t have the appeal to make that happen, there is plenty of land, but without funds, the government cannot build. And with the world’s attention on bigger, wealthier nations, we’re often overlooked.”

Daniel nodded, his drunken mind surprisingly focused. “That’s a lot to deal with. No wonder you’re overwhelmed.”

She glanced at him, her lips curving into a faint, almost wistful smile. “You’re surprisingly empathetic for someone who just spent twenty minutes talking about himself.”

He chuckled, raising his hands in mock surrender. “Hey, I’m just trying to return the favor. Besides, I figure if anyone deserves to vent, it’s you.”

Her smile widened slightly, the tension in her shoulders easing just a fraction. “Thanks. For listening.”

“Anytime,” Daniel said, his tone genuine.

For a while, they simply sat there, two strangers bound by their shared struggles, finding solace in each other’s presence. The city buzzed quietly around them, a stark contrast to the stillness of the park.

Daniel glanced at her, his curiosity still simmering beneath the surface. “So… if you’re supposed to be at this gala, what made you ditch it? I mean, I get the running-away-from-responsibilities part, but… why tonight?”

Y/N’s expression darkened, her gaze dropping to the ground. “Because I couldn’t do it anymore. The smiles, the small talk, the constant pressure to be perfect… it’s exhausting. And tonight, it just… it felt like too much.”

Daniel nodded slowly, his heart aching for her. “Yeah. I get that.”

She looked at him, her eyes searching his face as though trying to gauge his sincerity. After a moment, she sighed, leaning back against the bench. “Maybe running away wasn’t the smartest choice. But it felt like the only one I had.”

Daniel tilted his head, a small smile playing on his lips. “Well, for what it’s worth, I’m glad you did. Otherwise, I’d still be sitting here, talking to myself.”

She let out a soft laugh, the sound warming the chilly night air. “You’re an odd one, Daniel Ricciardo.”

“And you’re a princess sitting on a park bench,” he shot back, grinning.

For the first time that night, her smile reached her eyes.

“What are you going to do now?” she asked.

He sighed and leaned back, running a hand through his messy curls. “I don’t know. I wish I did. For the first time in my life, I don’t have a plan. I used to think I’d be racing forever. It was everything to me, you know? But now...” He trailed off, his voice tinged with frustration. “Now I just feel like I’m floating, and not in a good way.”

She nodded, understanding etched in her expression. “Floating’s better than drowning, I suppose.”

Daniel chuckled dryly. “Barely. What about you? What do you want to do?”

She hesitated, her fingers fidgeting with the strap of her bag. “I don’t know either,” she admitted. “Right now, my priorities are figuring out how to make my country more appealing to the outside world and... finding a husband.”

Daniel blinked, his head snapping toward her. “That’s quite the to-do list.”

She smirked faintly, the humor not quite reaching her eyes. “Tell me about it. But the truth is, my country needs me to step up. I have to take the reins soon, and for that, I need someone by my side. It’s tradition, and my father—he doesn’t have much time left.”

Her voice faltered slightly before she composed herself. “So, yeah, that’s my life right now. Fix the country and find a husband. No pressure.”

Daniel let out a low whistle. “We’re both just a piece of work, huh?”

For the first time all night, she laughed—a genuine, clear laugh that caught him off guard. It was contagious, and soon Daniel was laughing too, the absurdity of their shared misery suddenly amusing.

“You’re not wrong,” she said between breaths. “We’re a proper mess.”

He grinned. “Match made in hell.”

Her laughter faded, and a thoughtful look crossed her face. A spark of something new flickered in her expression. She tilted her head, studying him intently.

“What if we both got married?” she said suddenly.

Daniel froze, her words hanging in the air like a thunderclap. “Wait, what?” he asked, sitting up straighter. “Married? Like... you and me?”

She shrugged, but there was a glint in her eyes now, a spark of an idea taking shape. “Why not? You don’t know what to do with your life. I need a husband. It’s mutually beneficial.”

He stared at her, mouth slightly agape, waiting for the punchline. When it didn’t come, he shook his head. “You’re serious?”

“Dead serious.”

“You—” He gestured vaguely, still trying to process. “You’re a princess. I’m... me.”

“Exactly,” she replied, her tone matter-of-fact. “Think about it. My country needs a fresh face, someone who can help us stand out. And you—you’ve been in the public eye for years. You have the charm, the charisma. People love you. Marrying me would make you part of something bigger. It would give you purpose.”

Daniel shook his head, a disbelieving laugh escaping him. “This is insane.”

“Is it?” she countered, her voice firm. “You’re sitting here, wallowing, waiting for something to change. I’m offering you change, Daniel. I’m offering you a way out of this... this limbo you’re in.”

He fell silent, her words cutting deeper than he cared to admit. His mind raced, grappling with the sheer absurdity of her proposition.

“What if I’m not the guy you think I am?” he said quietly. “What if I screw this up? What if I let you down?”

She met his gaze, her expression softening. “You won’t.”

“You don’t know that,” he said, his voice tinged with frustration.

"Think about it, Daniel. I’m not asking you for love or devotion—just a partnership. You’ve said it yourself: you’re at a crossroads. So am I. Together, we could create something meaningful, even if it’s unconventional."

"But, what if I'm not a good husband, and and you're basically telling me I'll be king to a country after our marriage, what if I can't be the king your people want?" He looked at her imploring her to understand how this could not be the best thing to do.

Y/N moved forward towards him, taking one of his hand in hers.

"You didn’t know me, Daniel. For all you knew, I could’ve been a thief, a runaway, or someone dangerous sitting there on that bench. But you still walked up to me, asked if I was okay, and stayed when I told you to go away. You cared about a stranger. That says everything about the kind of man you are."

"I don’t want someone who’s perfect. I want someone who’s decent and kind—someone I can trust not to hurt me or make me feel like I’m less than what I already am." She smiled at him and he was mesmerized by it.

"And in all the chaos of my life, I want someone who’d sit next to me on a bench, even when I say I don’t need them. I know that person is you."

"But its not just us though Y/N, theres the fact that you're going to be queen. And me...a king. I’m not king material,” he said.

“I’m just a guy who drives fast cars and cracks bad jokes. What do I know about running a country?”

She smiled softly, leaning toward him. “You don’t have to know everything right now. No one is born knowing how to lead. But being a good king isn’t about knowing every detail—it’s about your character. It’s about having the heart to care and the courage to try.”

He shook his head. “It’s not just that. I’m not... refined or polished. People will take one look at me and laugh. Hell, even I'll laugh at me”

“They won’t,” she said firmly. “They’ll see someone relatable, someone real. My country doesn’t need perfection—it needs authenticity. It needs someone who can connect with people, and you have that gift. You can make people feel like they matter.”

He hesitated, still unconvinced. “But what if I make a mess of it? What if I’m not enough?”

Her gaze softened, her voice gentler. “You won’t be doing it alone. I’ll be right there with you, every step of the way. We’ll figure it out together. And if you fall, I’ll be there to catch you. That’s what a partnership is.”

Daniel looked at her, her words sinking in. “You really think I can do this?”

“I know you can,” she said, her tone unwavering. “Because being a king isn’t about being perfect. It’s about having the heart to listen, the humility to learn, and the strength to keep going. You already have all of that, Daniel. The rest we can figure out.”

Thank you for reading!

________________________________________

If you liked this part please leave a like a comment and a reblog!

New series, specific updates, about time I wrote something for Daniel, still dealing with the mess that is my life, sorry for being a bit absent. I appreciate all of your support on my stories and hopefully you'll like this one.

Jules♡

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