#daniel ricciardo one shot | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

holllandtrash · 10 months

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fragile line | daniel ricciardo

pairing: daniel ricciardo x driver!reader

You and I walk a fragile line I have known it all this time But I never thought I'd live to see it break

what happens when the driver daniel falls in love with, ends up being the one who brings his career to a screeching halt? word count: 7.7k (im so sorry) warnings/tags: fluff-ish, plot with implied/very little smut, angst, mclaren danny, zak brown (gross), some incorrect f2 stats but whatever, time jumps, really just a lot of angst, its a rollercoaster

“What do you know?”

“What do you know?” Daniel repeated the question back to you, the emphasis making it clear as day that you both carried the same career-altering information.

His signature grin and comforting optimism were nowhere to be seen. Instead, Daniel’s expression could be described in a variety of ways. Solemn, disappointed, hurt.

“What was I supposed to do?” You asked, going straight to the defensive. You couldn’t be helpful in this scenario, you just needed to explain yourself. He wouldn’t understand it from your perspective, but you had to try.

“Not take the seat,” he offered a solution, as if it was that simple. “My god, I mean, they’re cutting my contract early, Y/N. For you.”

“For the sake of the team,” you corrected. You had no say in this. McLaren had plenty of driver options for the 2023 season. There were rumours of Daniel’s contract coming to an end a year early anyway, everyone heard them, everyone ignored them. The only thing that remained uncertain for a while was who would replace him should the rumours be true.

You.

“You don’t even like McLaren.” You told him, voice raising a little as if that helped get the point across. “You’ve struggled with this team since day one.”

“That doesn’t mean I want to stop racing.”

“McLaren is not the team for you and you know this.”

Daniel scoffed, eyebrows twitching, “Did Zak tell you to say that?”

It was a rhetorical question, but Daniel noticed the way your bottom lip quivered. He caught the way your eyes dropped from his, even just for a split second. There was something unspoken between you, something that weighed on your mind and Daniel stepped forward, wanting to know what exactly it was.

“Zak-” you started, reluctant to even say this. “-he doesn’t know I’m here. I’m not supposed to be here. I’m not supposed to talk to you or anyone about it, not until your announcement comes out.”

Here meaning Daniel’s flat in Monaco. The place you spent more nights at than your own. You played it off by saying his view was better but that was such a bullshit answer. Daniel’s flat always felt more like home than yours ever did.

You had formally met the Australian driver a few years ago, but god did time fly. It was at a race in Monza. You could pretend you didn’t know the date but of course you did, you had it memorised. September 3rd, 2020. There was no way you could forget the day your life changed for the better.

Or possibly, for the worse. It was up in the air at this point.

You were new to the Formula 2 series. The only female driver on the grid as you raced with Prema alongside Mick Schumacher. F3 proved to be quite a successful stint for you and you had your eyes set on the coveted Formula 1 series. You wanted to be in the big leagues.

Daniel saw that. He saw how determined you were to not only make waves in Motorsport, but to make something of yourself. You trained just as hard, if not harder than the other drivers in the junior series and Daniel had seen that for a while. He was often surprised to see you at the hotel gym, already working up a sweat when he walked in at a little after 6am. He would be even more surprised when he saw you there in the evening when other drivers went and called it a night or even went and celebrated.

Your race weekends were the same as F1 weekends, but you just had limited ones. It was a shorter season, less intense, but whenever you were there. Daniel saw you. He saw you and he paid attention. He even rooted for you, very publicly as well whenever he could, despite the two of you never having exchanged a word.

The first time you heard about Daniel cheering you on was after the Monaco race, quite early on into your first season. You qualified 7th, not ideal for a track like Monaco where the opportunities to overtake were far and few between, but somehow you did it. And then you did it again. And you could say it was luck but it was really smart strategy and an insane amount of driver skill that had you finishing fifth. In Monaco.

Those were Daniel’s words. He was asked pre-race if he watched the F2 run and he said of course. He said he “wouldn’t have missed it for the world,” wanting to see what you could do this weekend.

“It’s not luck, she’s incredibly talented,” Daniel had told the Sky Sports reporter. “She’s doing big things in the series, and I’m rooting for her. Truly. It’s rare a driver comes around with such raw natural talent, where you look at them and you know racing’s just in their blood, but it’s in hers. I would love to see her in Formula 1 one day.”

You watched that interview clip about twenty times. Daniel Ricciardo, the Daniel Ricciardo who had won Monaco a few years back, was complimenting you. He was rooting for you.

It wasn’t until Monza, nearing the end of your season that he finally approached you.

“I want to work with you,” Daniel said, straight to the point. You were in the middle of stretching in the hotel's fitness centre. It was only Thursday, the race weekend itself had barely started but Daniel knew he’d find you in there.

You pulled your airpods out and looked up at him in the mirror, “You what?”

“I want to work with you,” Daniel repeated, this time sitting down on the floor next to you. He kept your stare in the reflection. “I’m not a trainer by any means, but I want to work with you. I want to see you in Formula 1.”

You were flattered, honoured really, but you didn’t know what that entailed. “Work with me how?”

“Well, regular fitness training for starters,” he said. “But managing, really. I want to help you with everything that it takes to move up. Media training, mental preparedness, finding sponsors, getting you in touch with the right people. Let me help you, Y/N.”

You weren’t sure what brought this on. Part of you was convinced it was because he knew this would look good on his behalf. If you did make it to Formula 1 and Daniel’s name was attached to yours, he’d look like a genius. A hero. He would be known as the first person from F1 to publicly support you.

But that wasn’t what it was at all. When you agreed and accepted his help, you soon came to learn that Daniel didn’t want to be in your spotlight at all. He found the opportunities that you needed and then stepped back. He didn’t mention to the media at all that he was helping you, he didn’t see a need to. He saw your potential and he truly wanted to help you make something off.

So there he was during the off season, meeting you in London where you resided. He trained with you, set you up with the right people, did weekly check-ins, he really was like a sort of manager.

He was there during pre-season testing the following year, literally. He stood in the Prema garage like he was just another member of the team. No one really questioned it, not when you said he was acting as a mentor to you. Everyone loved Daniel’s presence there and he was told he was welcome whenever.

He was there during race weekends whenever he could find time in his own busy schedule. He was never there during the actual race, needing that time to prepare for his own, but he always watched from his drivers room or had someone in his ear updating where you were and what was happening.

He was there in Silverstone, when you crashed during Saturday's Sprint Race.

It was one of the last sessions of the day, Daniel had already finished qualifying and he was standing in the back of your garage, arms crossed over his chest, eyes glued to the screen.

He was the first voice you heard when you spun, losing the breaks in mere seconds and all you could do was brace yourself for the impact of the barriers.

“Tell me you’re okay.” Daniel’s voice came through your radio. Not your engineer, not your team principal. Daniel. “Say something, sweets, tell me you're okay.”

Sweets, he called you. But only ever in private, or in front of close friends. What started as a joke when you complained about him not having any sweets in his flat the first time you visited in Monaco, stuck.

But everyone had access to the team radios. It could be heard by other engineers, other teams, fans even and those watching at home should F1TV choose to broadcast it.

Of course they did. They aired the exchange for everyone to hear and it spread like wildfire. It was all anyone on social media could talk about.

“Say something, sweets. Tell me you’re okay.”

“I’m okay,” you sputtered out, hands shaking as you unclenched them. It was an instinct to pull them off the steering wheel and tuck your arms to your chest, physically bracing where you could.

“Good,” Daniel breathed out a very obvious sigh of relief. “Good.” He paused, and then with a quiet chuckle added, “What the fuck was that then?”

You laughed in response, needing the humour at such a traumatic time. You had crashed before, but this was a bad one. You didn’t even need to step out of the vehicle to know you were lucky to not feel any immediate injuries, but there was a ringing in your ear and the adrenaline was preventing you from really understanding the damage your body had sustained.

It wouldn’t have helped, though, to have gotten an earful, not like it was your fault anyway. It also wouldn’t have helped if you were asked again and again if you were okay. The more people asked, the more stressed you would grow. Daniel knew you needed a bit of lightheartedness at this time.

“No brakes, Danny,” you answered through a soft laugh.

“That just sounds like an excuse to me,” he muttered, the sarcasm evident even through the crackling radio.

“Are you going to continue to question my driving abilities or are you going to send medical out here to help me?”

That whole interaction went viral. From the radio message, to the clips of Daniel accompanying you to the medical centre, to the photos of the two of you smiling in the paddock despite the bruising on your body, the concussion you were diagnosed with and the instruction from the doctor that you were not stable enough to race on Sunday.

Which sucked, to put it plainly. But you were with Daniel. He made the situation bearable. With his arm around your shoulder, he walked you to the car at the end of the day, having waited with you the whole time.

People speculated, of course. Questions were asked.

Why was Daniel Ricciardo paying such close attention to you? Why did he get over the radio when he crashed? Why did it sound so flirty? Had he been in your garages the whole time and no one noticed? Was he a mentor? A friend? More?

You had put out a statement when you got to the hotel, thanking everyone for the kind words and well wishes. You shared that you would not be driving on Sunday and you also shared that you were thankful for the support of Daniel Ricciardo, your mentor, who reminded you that even the best of the best crash out sometimes.

Mentor, you publicly called him That’s what he was, right? Or trainer. Or Manager. Or friend, really. There were a lot of words to describe his relationship to you.

People online didn’t believe it. They thought there was more because, who looks at each other like that if they’re not fucking?

But you weren’t. Honest to god, that line with Daniel was never crossed. You never even considered it. Always content with his companionship and his advice, you didn’t want anything physical or romantic.

At least, you thought you didn’t.

Daniel dragged you into his room instead of letting you go up to yours because you were under strict instructions to not be left alone for the next twelve hours should the concussion worsen.

“I’m glad you’re okay,” he said, handing you a glass of water. “I know I joked over the radio, but I was worried. It wasn’t a pretty crash.”

“Are any crashes pretty?”

He sat down next to you, closer than normal considering when he rested his arm over the back of the couch, his fingers were within the distance needed to play with the strands of your hair.

He sucked in a breath through his teeth, “I guess it depends on the driver. I make the crashes pretty.”

The comedic gasp you let out as you clenched your chest had him laughing.

“Daniel Ricciardo, are you calling me ugly?”

“Don’t twist my words!” He exclaimed, eyes squinting as his smile widened. “I said I was pretty.”

You hummed, “You pretty much said I made the crush ugly.”

“I didn’t say you were ugly,” Daniel playfully tugged on a strand of your hair. “You’re not- I mean, you-”

And then the humour faded. He met your eyes, his hand fell to your shoulder. He was still smiling but it was the sort of gentle smile one wears when they figure out the answer to a question that had been eating at them for a while.

Something clicked for Daniel. At this very moment.

He wasn’t going to let it escape him.

“Pretty doesn’t do you justice,” Daniel told you, voice lowering. “You’re breaktaking, Y/N. On the racetrack, at home, at events, you put everyone around you to shame. And it’s not- it isn’t just your appearance, it’s you. Everything about you. Your heart, your charisma, the way your eyes light up when you smile but only if you’re talking to people you like,” he chuckled, having experienced it first hand and having seen the way you don’t look nearly as pleased when someone you dislike approaches you.

You were speechless, though. Frozen where you sat as this admission came out of seemingly nowhere.

And Daniel was attractive, that was an undeniable fact, he was everything anyone could ever want in a man. But you never allowed yourself to look at him the way other people would. He was your trainer, manager, mentor, friend.

You had no words to explain the way he was staring at you now. Nor could you explain why it made you feel more alive than driving a racecar at inhumane speeds ever could.

Daniel took another breath, eyes never leaving yours. “You are unlike anyone I have ever come across and I know, in my lifetime, I will never find someone who could ever compare to even a fraction of who you are.”

There was no way you could continue to be just friends after those words passed his lips.

You kissed him. You had to. It wasn’t like there was anything you could say that would match what he had already said, nor could you even find the words.

You kissed him and Daniel pulled you onto his laps, your legs moving to straddle either side of his hips. His hands roamed your body, sliding up the Prema shirt you still had on as your tongue roamed every possible inch of his mouth.

His hand gripped your waist, rolling you over top of him so you could feel in a matter of seconds how this conversation had now taken a turn. His cock started to harden, constricted by his pants, but you still felt it underneath you each time he shifted, each time you grinded against him.

When you reached for the hem of his shirt and pulled it off, Daniel leaned back, both of you taking that second to catch your breath and question if you were really going to do this.

“Is this a mistake?” You whispered, your thumb gently tracing over his lips. Your working relationship was perfect. This could ruin everything. You had fears, doubts, worries. One night could lead to dozens of complications.

But Daniel shook his head and all of those thoughts vanished.

“No,” he said, sounding so sure of himself with that one syllable. “I’ve made plenty of mistakes in my life but you are not one of them.”

That was the only validation you needed. You kissed him again, more lust, more passion, than before as Daniel stood up, carrying you towards the bed at the back of the room. He dropped you down on the edge of it, smiling at the squeal that escaped your lips.

Daniel wanted to worship you every way he could. He was gentle with you, with your body, as he dipped his head between your thighs, making you feel a wave of euphoria that no one had ever brought you too before.

It wasn’t until you were begging for more did Daniel realise he didn’t need to be gentle the entire night. He slid two fingers past your folds, lifting his head and hovering his body over yours, wanting to feel your desperate breaths hit his face as he rapidly thrusted his digits in and out of you, your walls clenching around him.

When he attached his lips to that spot on your neck, his teeth pressing against your skin, you saw stars. Daniel’s motions didn’t let up as you came around his fingers, loving the way your legs shook and how you dragged your hand through the hair on the back of his head.

He was cautious about doing anything else, knowing you were injured, he didn’t want to overstimulate you or cause any more pain.

But you needed him. You reached for the zipper of his pants and tugged it down, telling Daniel you wanted this, as if the way you looked up at him didn’t already make that perfectly clear.

He was careful when he entered you, patient. The tip of his cock slid past your folds slowly and he kissed your collarbone so gently you almost didn’t feel it as you adjusted to his size, quiet moans emitting from the back of your throat.

He had praised you before, but only ever at the race track, so there was something so familiar yet so foreign about the way he whispered against your skin. It lit a fire within you.

“You take me so well, sweets,” he fought back a groan as your walls tightened around him when you clenched your legs. “So good for me.”

It was safe to say the dynamic between you two changed after that night.

Daniel adored you already, admired you greatly for your achievements and growth in the sport. But now he fought with himself every weekend, knowing that he couldn’t touch you how he wanted. He couldn’t show you the attention he so desperately wanted. He couldn’t kiss you when you got that podium in Belgium, despite finding a way to sneak out of the pre-race duties for a second to run to the barrier to be there for you with the rest of the Prema team.

Whatever was going on between you, it was unlabelled and it was private. The rest of the world didn’t need to know you were sleeping with the man you looked up to, the one who helped you become a great athlete in such a short period of time.

People continued to speculate. You were private, sure, but you weren’t overly careful.

You were seen landing in Monaco over the summer. You were spotted hanging out with Daniel on plenty of occasions. Even though you kept your hands off of each other and refused to act like anything more than friends out in public, you were different when you returned after the break. You both were. Everyone noticed.

Daniel was, if it was even possible, happier. And you were less stressed it seemed. While you were still fighting a constant battle of being the only female in F2, it no longer seemed as heavy because the weight of it wasn’t just on your shoulders anymore. Daniel was there too.

It wasn’t just physical, what you had. The emotional connection you shared was undeniable. Daniel was always there for you, and you, him. During the bad days, the good ones, and everyday in between.

When you finished the season 5th in the drivers championship, the only person you wanted to celebrate with was Daniel. He was so proud of you. He watched you go from finishing 13th last year to 5th. He played a huge part in that, but when you tried to tell him that, he only brushed it off, saying that it was all you, he was just happy to be there for the ride.

It was his idea for you to test drive for McLaren at the end of the year, too. ‘We’ll get you in a real F1 car’ he said. And you didn’t question it when the offer was brought forward to participate in a few practice sessions. It was exhilarating and terrifying and you cried tears of joy when you stepped out of his car because this was what you dreamed of. Driving a Formula 1 car.

Now you just needed a permanent seat and Daniel wanted that for you too. He was your biggest supporter, and you only grew closer as the days went on.

You met his family over the holidays. He spent New Years Eve in London with you.

When the season started again, he spent more time with you and Prema. When there were no scheduled F2 races during F1 weekends, you accompanied him in the McLaren garage.

At this point, quite a few people knew you were together, or at least they assumed it.

You didn’t post about it, you didn’t want to, you didn’t need to. Daniel didn’t need to show you off, nor did you feel obligated to let everyone know you were with him. What you had was private, it was sacred, it was only for the two of you.

But of course whenever you had a good performance, whether it be from a practice session, qualifying or a race, he’d share your celebration picture to his Instagram story.

“Would you ever do a shoey?” Daniel asked you one Tuesday night, zooming in on a photo of you, more specifically on the smile on your face as you clenched your second place trophy from Imola on Sunday.

You rolled your eyes but the smile was impossible to hide as he came up behind you and wrapped his arms around your waist, tugging you into his chest.

“Next time you win,” Daniel suggested with a laugh. “I expect a shoey.”

“I’m not Australian.”

“You’re dating one, sweets.”

You never actually discussed what you were. The term boyfriend-girlfriend seemed so childish. Dating was, in a sense, accurate, but again, there were no labels. He had your heart, you had his. That was the only thing that mattered.

“The world doesn’t know that,” you pointed out.

“They kind of do,” Daniel kissed your cheek, giving your side a squeeze as he stepped aside to help you prepare dinner.

You weren’t even sure when you fell into such a domestic lifestyle but there you were, practically moved into Daniel’s place in Monaco at this point and he was at your side, chopping carrots for the salad while you prepared the chicken breasts.

“A shoey would confirm it,” you glanced up at him, but the smile on his face told you he wasn’t completely against the idea.

Daniel stepped behind you, fingers playfully pinching your waist, “Just think about it. If you don’t want to, you don’t have to. I just reckon it would be entertaining for everyone.”

He didn’t bring it up again, not even when you got third in Spain and didn’t do it. It was your first time getting a back to back podium since you started racing and of course it was something to celebrate, but the idea of a shoey made your stomach churn. You weren’t sure if you were ready for the world to know about your commitment to Daniel.

You walked a thin line, being with him. And while you enjoyed every possible minute spent with him, you knew the world was cruel. The second you officially went public, you’d lose respect in the motorsport industry.

The only female F2 driver dating an F1 driver? How scandalous.

Despite the rumours, the correct rumours, you were still in a bubble with him. You could pretend you were just friends, close friends. The tabloids had nothing to go off except your polite interactions and maybe a little too friendly smiles and so what if you were there in the McLaren garage cheering him on?

You were his biggest supporter and he was yours.

But it didn’t help that while your performance was improving, his was rapidly declining. While you had less races than his, already your stats were better. You qualified in the top 5 for the first three races. You finished second in Imola, third in Spain, already better than how you started the season last year.

Monaco was next. Daniel loved Monaco, you both did. Everyone did, it was the pinnacle of Formula 1.

It was unfortunate that your weekends ended up so drastically different.

Daniel qualified 14th and then finished 13th. He wasn’t proud of it, but he did his best to hide his disappointment for you, especially since you were starting on the front row, P2, for the feature race.

And somehow, you won.

After trailing behind Drugovich for the majority of the race, you were starting to believe you would finish behind him too. And you probably would have, had there not been a safety car almost six laps after he boxed for fresh tyres, giving you the advantage of newer tyres and less wasted time. It was a strategy your team was banking on, waiting for a safety car. It was risky, but it paid off. Overtaking was nearly impossible with Formula 1 cars, but you had a better chance in your series and somehow, by the grace of god, you did it. You pulled ahead and swiped the lead from Felipe.

You made history that weekend. The first female F2 driver to not only podium, but to win at Monaco. You gripped that first place trophy so tight your hand turned red.

Usually, F2 didn’t draw nearly as big of a crowd, but this weekend was different. Everyone was a fan of the series after that performance, a fan of you. You saw people in the crowd wearing Red Bull gear, Ferrari merch, McLaren hats, and they were all applauding you.

Of course, you were blown away by the support. Hearing your national anthem play was an incredible sound. There were tears in your eyes and your entire body was trembling, yet somehow you managed to find Daniel. Right in front, with your team.

He was so proud of you.

Despite his shitty qualifying, despite knowing he had such a low shot at earning points at his race that was in just under an hour, he was there for you. You couldn’t tell if he was cheering the loudest, or if you were just so prone to finding him in a crowd that you couldn’t process anything or anyone else.

You weren’t sure what came over you, but once you grabbed the champagne bottle, you found yourself taking your shoe off as well. As Felipe and Théo started spraying their bottles in celebration, you poured the bubbly liquid into the sole of your racing shoe and lifted it up to your lips, pointing directly at Daniel who couldn’t believe what he was watching.

It was rancid, as you figured it would. It was champagne out of a sweaty shoe, you knew it wouldn’t taste good, but it was a shoey and it was for Daniel. Felipe patted your back, laughing at your reaction and muttering something about how Daniel would get a kick out of that.

He was right, but Daniel wasn’t the only one who found it entertaining.

Your name was once again trending following the Monaco Grand Prix. Not Checo’s, even though he won the F1 race. Your name.

Not that you really cared that night. How could you care about what the internet was saying when the man you were with told you that he loved you for the first time? Nothing online mattered, not when Daniel took your face in his hands and told you he was madly in love with you. He was proud, he was happy, he was in love.

And you knew you loved him too. You had known this for a while. Monaco was just the perfect time to say it.

After going about as public as you could without physically coming out and saying you were dating the Australian driver, Monaco was the perfect place to tell him you loved him. You were on cloud 9, you were making history, you were in love.

You continued to deny, or at least ignore, the rumours that followed, still. You both did. You were in love with each other, not the whole world. Things would get complicated if you announced you were dating. You were vying for a Formula 1 seat and you wanted it without Daniels’ influence.

But at the following race in Baku you were asked similar questions.

“Your shoey last week, did that have anything to do with Daniel Ricciardo being there to cheer you on? You two have gotten pretty close in the last few months, he’s one of your mentors, isn’t he?”

You shifted your weight to one leg, wondering what the fuck kind of post-qualifying question that was. You had just completed three back to back podiums, you were on a hot streak now, starting third at this next race and the reporter only cared about what happened at the podium celebration last weekend.

“Sorry, did you have a question about this week's race?” You asked, and when he stammered over his words, you just nodded and walked away, a tight smile on your face.

Daniel’s conversation went a bit differently.

“Y/N’s shoey last week, we all saw it. Was that your influence?”

“Yeah I never thought she’d actually do it, it was sweet,” Daniel laughed. “It was great though, I happily pass the tradition onto her.”

“She’s really come along in Formula 2 since she started back in 2020, do you think she has what it takes to be Formula 1’s first full-time female driver?”

“Absolutely,” there wasn’t a shred of doubt or hesitation. He was happy to talk about you, to explain to the rest of the world why you were up and coming and should be taken seriously as a real contender for a Formula 1 seat. He probably would have continued on if his PR rep hadn’t pulled him away, reminding him of other duties.

The next few races were similar to your first ones. A couple more podiums, some outstanding qualifying sessions, more history being made. Your phone was blowing up weekly, everybody wanted to talk to you now and you knew Daniel had something to do with it. Him constantly sharing the faith he had in you did wonders for your reputation.

You might have been on top of the world, but you were well aware you were alone up there.

Daniels’ performances were anything but newsworthy. He had gotten a few points in Austria and France, but nothing to be extremely proud of, especially when he compared his 9th place finish at the Red Bull Ring to your first place podium, making it your second one this season.

He never let his disappointment for himself and McLaren stand in the way of your achievements. In fact, you didn’t often speak about the races when you were together. You were aware Daniel was having issues with the team, with Zak, with the car, but he didn’t want to weigh you down with his own problems, even though you assured him time and time again you could handle it.

Really, if Daniel had come to you with his struggles, you would have thought twice when Zak Brown approached you prior to the Hungarian Grand Prix. You probably would have slammed the door to your drivers room in his face if you knew how Daniel was being treated at McLaren.

But Daniel held his cards close to his chest while Zak laid his all out on the table.

“If a spot opened up for you,” he said, after spending the last ten minutes talking about the rich history of the team and praising your accolades. “Would you consider it?”

It wasn’t an official contract, just the start of a conversation that could lead to one.

Of course you thought of Daniel. And Lando, having grown close with him simply through Daniel.

“For 2024?” You asked, knowing both of them were set to continue driving through to at least the end of 2023.

“No,” Zak shook his head. You didn’t like how harsh his tone had turned, having no remorse for what he was about to say. “Daniel’s contract would be ending early.”

You leaned back in your chair, fingers tapping the table as you tried to recall Daniel ever telling you that he was leaving McLaren. “Is he- he wants out?”

“It’s mutual,” Zak assured you. “He knows we can’t give him the car he wants and unfortunately, he’s not delivering what we need. We had high hopes with Daniel, but the working relationship isn’t what any of us thought it would be.”

It’s mutual. Those two words was all it took to convince you that Zak Brown and Daniel had already had a conversation about this, about terminating the contract a year early.

It didn’t help that Zak brought up your test sessions in the McLaren from last year, pointing out that you had better times than Lando, even. He went on to praise what you were doing this year at Prema and said, multiple times, that you would be an asset to McLaren should you choose to go that route.

And who were you to turn that down?

A team principal of a Formula 1 team wanted to sign you. Was it unfortunate that it was Daniel’s seat? Yes, obviously this situation was less than ideal, but he wanted out. You were convinced he wanted out, that he was done with McLaren. A 45 minute conversation with Zak Brown convinced you of that.

You should have been wary when at the end of the conversation he said, “Don’t tell anyone about this, yet. You know how the public can be, let’s just keep this to ourselves for the meantime.”

“But I can talk to Dan, right?” You asked.

Zak knew you were dating Daniel, it was a little harder to hide that from his team than it was the rest of the world. Maybe that’s why hesitated before answering, knowing that keeping a secret, something as big as this, from a partner had the potential to cause chaos.

But he shook his head, “Between us, yeah?”

And you listened to him. You wanted that Formula 1 seat so of course you followed orders.

You desperately wanted to talk to Daniel about it, but you knew you couldn’t. And either he sensed that something was off, or he was dealing with his own problems again and wouldn’t share, you really couldn’t tell when the summer break started and things just seemed…different.

You didn’t go to Monaco for starters, even though Daniel invited you to. But there were so many meetings with Zak and the board at McLaren that it made more sense for you to stay in London for the start of the break.

Daniel didn’t call as often and you wanted to give him space, knowing that this break was probably needed for him. You expected he was out with friends, letting loose, getting the weight of a horrible season off his back even if just temporarily.

The plan was to go to Monaco for the last week and a half and then travel to Belgium together. You had to delay that plan, however, when Zak called you and said it was official.

The 2023 seat was yours.

You wanted to celebrate, with Daniel, but how could you celebrate with the person you were replacing?

It was strange that Daniel had said nothing to you about leaving the team during the summer break, especially since Zak had said time and time again they were on the same page, that Daniel was ready to leave. The only thing that crossed your mind was he was given strict instructions to not say anything to anyone either, at least until McLaren went public with the news.

But with it being official, with you having just signed on the dotted line, you were tired of keeping it to yourself. You may not have been able to share the news with anyone else, but you had a right to have a conversation with Daniel about it.

You didn’t know how he would react. Surely he’d be happy for you, right? You were getting a seat in Formula 1, something that both of you desperately wanted to happen. And again, you were under the impression the departure from McLaren was mutual. He would be happy that someone he loved was taking his seat, right?

Right?

You had to tell yourself that the entire ride over to his place. You unlocked the front door to his building and took the elevator up to the fourth level. You didn’t think to knock, knowing he never locked it when he was home so you pushed open the door and stepped in, your suitcase trailing behind you.

You were happy to see him. He was always a breath of fresh air, despite the odd distance between you, you still loved him. You always would. He muted whatever was playing on the screen and stood up from the couch when he heard you walk in.

Usually, Daniel would greet you with a kiss.

Usually, he’d be smiling so hard his jaw would be hurting.

Usually, he was happy to see you.

You left the suitcase by the door and met him halfway, only he stopped walking when there was about a foot of space between your bodies. To you, it felt like you were still miles apart.

“Do you have something you want to tell me?” He asked, arms crossed over his chest.

Your heart sank.

You had convinced yourself, Zak had convinced you, the whole back of house team had convinced you, that Daniel was aware of this upcoming change. That the termination was mutual. You taking his seat might have been a surprise, but it was never supposed to be a blindside.

“What do you know?” you asked.

“What do you know?” Daniel repeated the question back to you.

You were both fully aware of the exact same information. Daniel was leaving. You were taking his seat. Only, you had been informed this much earlier than he had.

“What was I supposed to do?”

“Not take the seat,” he scoffed. “My god, I mean, they’re cutting my contract early, Y/N. For you.”

“For the sake of the team,” you said and then added, “You don’t even like McLaren. You’ve struggled with this team since day one.”

“That doesn’t mean I want to stop racing.”

“McLaren is not the team for you and you know this.”

Daniel scoffed, eyebrows twitching, “Did Zak tell you to say that?”

“Zak-” you started, finding it difficult to hold his stare. This wasn’t the Daniel you knew. “-he doesn’t know I’m here. I’m not supposed to be here. I’m not supposed to talk to you or anyone about it, not until your announcement comes out.”

He rubbed his hands over his face, taking a few steps away from you. It hurt, watching as he tried to physically distance himself from you. Like being in too close of proximity would set him off.

“I struggled with the team, yes, but I’m not ready to give up racing. You have now left me without a seat.”

It was easy for Daniel to blame you, you were standing right in front of him. You were quite literally the driver set to replace him.

But the real villain was Zak, for not having opened up this line of communication earlier. For making you believe everyone was on the same page. It was Zak’s fault for rushing to end the contract with Daniel instead of putting in the effort to work with him. He saw the shiny new toy that was you, that Daniel helped create, and he wasn’t going to let someone else take it first.

Daniel wanted to blame himself too, but he wouldn’t let himself think about that until much later. He was the one who did everything he could to help you grow in this sport. He was the one who introduced you to Zak and the rest of the McLaren team. He was the one who got you in the car for the practice sessions, his car. Foreshadowing at its finest.

“You are unbelievable,” Daniel spoke quietly, heated with anger but his words were like ice as they sunk deep into you. “After everything I’ve done to help you for you to betray me like this, I just- I don’t think-”

You knew where this was going and you wanted to put a pin in it before he could finish any of his thoughts.

“Don’t finish that sentence, Daniel,” you whispered. “Please. Please, we can figure something out.”

“There’s nothing to figure out,” his mind was made up. “You took my seat.”

“Wouldn’t you rather it me than someone you don’t know? Someone you don’t trust?” You tried to turn this around, have him look at the positives, if there were any. “Daniel, everyone on the grid loves you, you’ll find a new team. One that helps you grow and get to where you want. McLaren isn’t that, we both know it.”

“I think you should go,” was his only response.

“If I hadn’t signed that contact, someone else would have,” you pointed out, grasping at straws here, painfully honest straws, but straws nonetheless. “Piastri, O’Ward…McLaren had options, Dan. Aren’t you at least happy for me that I out-qualified all of those guys?”

Daniel actually laughed, “You want me to be happy for you? Are you fucking kidding me?”

“Dan-”

“Leave.”

“I’m not leaving.”

“You need to,” he was stern. He was angry. He was done. With you, with the team, with everything he used to love and cherish. He was done.

You thought you knew Daniel. You thought you knew how this conversation would play out. You figured it would still be rocky, but god you now realised how naive you were to believe you could still make things work.

“I love you,” you told him, because what else could you say except remind him that you were so hopelessly in love with him, that he was all you would ever want in life.

Except, that wasn’t exactly true, was it?

You wanted a seat in Formula 1 too. You just never thought you’d have to sacrifice one dream for the other.

Daniel’s stare was cold. He only looked away for a second to nod his head towards the door behind you, “If you loved me, you wouldn’t have done this.”

You stepped forward, desperate at this point because how could he do this? How could he throw away what you had, over a seat?

Or was it you, who had ultimately thrown away what you had when you sat down with Zak Brown all those weeks ago?

It pained you to think about the strong possibility of that being the case.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered, because you were. You were sorry about how this turned out, how he was betrayed, how this was coming to an end. You grabbed hold of your suitcase and nodded, backing up towards the door, “I really am sorry, Dan.”

He didn’t believe you. Why would he? In his eyes, Formula 1 was more important to you than he was. A career decision that benefited you, but ruined him, mattered more than your relationship. It was a bold move, a cold move, one that you didn’t think would lead to this.

Neither of you could have predicted this. On September 3rd, 2020, when Daniel first said he wanted to work with you, neither of you thought it would end like this.

Just as you grabbed the handle of the door, Daniel opened his mouth, wanting to get the final word in. And you really wished he hadn’t because those final words destroyed you.

“I’ve made plenty of mistakes in my life, but I never thought you would turn out to be one of them.”

You said nothing. You walked out of that Monaco flat with your head low and your heart even lower. You couldn’t even be excited about the next season, or the remainder of this one where you had the potential to finish in the top three.

You weren't happy, you were empty, you were defeated. And painfully so, you were also still in love.

Despite what was said, you knew it would take a while to get over Daniel. He was your rock for so long, he was always there for you and even though he could disappear without so much as a second thought, your feelings couldn’t, the memories couldn’t. It would take a long time until you felt whole again.

You didn’t know it yet, but the decision to take that McLaren seat would haunt you as you moved forward in your career.

This was not going to be the last time you ever saw Daniel.

part 2 haunted

#daniel ricciardo x you #daniel ricciardo x reader #daniel ricciardo #daniel ricciardo one shot #danny ric #dr3 #f1 one shot #f1 fics #formula 1 x you #daniel ricciardo imagine #daniel ricciardo au

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procrastination-queenie · 7 months

Text

Pairing: Daniel Ricciardo x fem! Actress! Reader.

Synopsis: you express your love for Danny's nose.

Daniel is your favourite pickle.

Warning(s): rude interviewer, mentions of insecurities, very mild smut.

Contains a short smau at the end.

Daniel never gave much thought to how he looked in general, not the physical aspect at least. Style wise, yeah, of course, as a world-famous athlete, he has to take care of how he looks, but that's mostly up to his stylist, especially during important events; such as this one.

Daniel was currently attending one of the most famous awards shows in the entire world, the Oscars, with you, his girlfriend. And never had he thought that someone, particularly an interviewer, would be questioning you about his looks, his physical look, specifically his nose.

"I am sorry, what?" You questioned with a frown on your face. "I just wanted to know what you think of Daniel's nose? Isn't it ... ugh I'd say too big? Has he thought about plastic surgery before?"

You continue to look at the interviewer in disbelief as you try to remain professional. Your facial expressions are not really your best friend. It has betrayed you many times on numerous occasions.

Throughout your entire career, you have learnt that interviewers like these with questions like that are trying to do two things: either provoke you to try and give something to the audience, which is most likely the aim of this question, or they just take the liberty of seeing you as a close friend who they can nag for information about your life. However, even your closest of friends never asked a question like this.

So, as a professional actress and a very loving girlfriend, you played out this situation in a smart way... by truly telling the interviewer how you felt about Danny's nose.

"Oh," you took your time to look at the interviewer before turning to Daniel, who you felt started to withdraw his grip over your waist. Daniel saw nothing in your eyes except love. Your brows were raised in concern and your lips pouty. "Baby, what's wrong with your nose?" You faked concern as you put both of your hands on each side of his face as if inspecting it. Danny chuckled at your adorable act. You asked him in a voice that he heard all the time when you were playing with his nephew. His eyes only focused on you, still holding his face between the palms of your hands, you turned to look at the interviewer with a funny look, as if the man was seeing things.

"I see nothing wrong with him," you almost whispered, turning to look back at Daniel as you stood on your toes to reach him. Daniel thought that you would give him a peck on the lips. Instead, you went for his nose and gave it a gentle kiss. He stood there in awe, looking like a love sick puppy that was wagging its tail happily while looking at the owner of his heart.

"He looks perfect to me. Actually, his nose looks like the Greek status that we see in museums," you said looking back at the interviewer who now grew annoyed by the fact that he couldn't get a reaction out of you or Daniel. "In fact, I think you're jealous because you wish you had a nose like his," you stated as a matter of fact.

The interviewer growing more uncomfortable by the second tried to end the conversation, seeing that you saw through him and did not give him what he wanted.

Daniel, on the other hand, couldn't keep his hand off you all night wanting nothing than to keep you in his arms, loving you, away from any preying eyes. It did not help after you had won the best actress award for your recent film, making him feel like he had won the world championship again.

That night, you straddled Daniel's naked waist wearing nothing but your undergarments and the chemise he had for the Oscars. Both of you, hair looked wild after all the love making you spent doing, feeling so proud of each other. You were staring at his face while your hand was tracing his cheeks softly. "You didn't have to answer that guy tonight, you know." Daniel said, feeling that it was not worth your effort to speak to someone like him. Your hands halted their soft tracing as you looked at him, listening to what he has to say on this. "I've dealt with interviewers like him before. He was not worth your time," Daniel said as his lips kissed your palm that rested on his cheek, eyes refusing to look at yours.

"Hey, look at me," you gently kept his head in its place, preventing him from moving it anywhere. Daniel raised his eyes to meet yours as your fingers continued to trace his cheek again. "I meant every word of what I said that night." Your fixed look on his eyes reflected nothing but sincerity. "Danny, if I could spend the rest of my life listing what I love about you, I'd do it, and it would never be enough," your eyes glistening as you recalled all times that you felt unworthy of his love, and because you didn't want the comment of a stupid ass interviewer to make him feel what you felt at your moments of insecurity. Daniel deserved to be loved for everything that he is. He will always own your heart in a way that no one has ever, or will ever do.

"Baby, what are you tearing up for now?" Daniel hated himself for ruining the mood. He wiped your tears as he took you in his arms. "It's just... I- I love you so much, and I would hate for you to be brought down by someone like that asshole," you sniffed as you hugged Daniel tightly. Daniel sighed as he hugged you back, putting his chin on top of your head.

"And I wanted everyone to know and for you to know that no matter what, you're pretty in my eyes,"

"even if you're turned into a jar of pickles, I would still love you the same," Daniel stiffled a laugh as he moved his head to try and get a look of your face that he's sure is all pouty.

"Yeah, but you'd still love me because you love pickles,"

"Yeah, well, I love you more, though." Daniel laughed so hard as he kissed your forehead. "Oh, wow. I feel special,"

"You should,"

Y/UserName

Liked by danielricciardo and 173,487 others.

Y/UserName Forever, my favourite pickle.🥹✨️🥒

danielricciardo love you, too sweetheart ❤️ why the teary eyed emoji tho? 🥹

↬ Lilymhe @/danielricciardo, come get your gf. She's drunk and won't stop talking about pickles.🫠

↬danielricciardo omw 🏃‍♂️💨

FanUser1 I am feeling more and more single with each post 🙂

FanUser2 @/FanUser3 wake up. Mum is emotional and drunk, again.

FanUser4 We appreciate a drunk girlfriend in love 🤌🏻❤️

landonorris Did she just call you a pickle? 😂

↬maxverstappen1 I'm intrigued 👀

↬danielricciardo y'all just jealous you don't get to have cute pet names like me. 🙄

FanUser5 not Daniel actually taking the pet name seriously 😂

georgerussell63 @/carmenmmundt why am I not your pickle, too? 🥹

↬carmenmmundt George, you hate pickles. 🌚

*danielricciardo liked your comment*

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starkwlkr · 10 months

Text

enchanté | daniel ricciardo

faceclaim martha hunt

liked by taylorswift, isahernaez and 1,838,900 others

y/n.l/n 💟

itselenaberri ❤️❤️

dannyricily what is going on and why do i feel like i might cry?

totosleftshoe speak now speak now speak now

taylorswift ✨✨✨

motionsicknessstan 3 omg taylor is a danny ric stan

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liked by taylorswift, f1 and 1,00,377 others

danielricciardo 💜

landonorris care to share?

maxverstappen1 you never told me purple was your favorite color

f1paddockgirlies does this have to do with speak now tv and y/n? because I’m still not over your breakup 😭

forzasharl they dated for seven years i don’t think anyone is over their breakup 🥲😭

mclarenhoes it hurts even more when you remember they knew each other since they were teenagers

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liked by f1, y/n.l/n and 6,377,900 others

taylorswift I’m VERY excited to share with you all the Enchanted (Taylor’s Version) Music Video!! A massive thank you to y/n.l/n danielricciardo for letting play director again!

PART 2

#formula 1 #f1 x reader #formula 1 imagine #f1 imagine #f1 x you #daniel riccardo x reader #daniel ricciardo imagine #daniel ricciardo instagram au #daniel ricciardo one shot #dr3 x reader #dr3 #f1 instagram au #daniel ricciardo

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theemporium · 10 months

Note

Ok ok ok but Daniel x fem getting caught mid bang after a race 👀

thank you for requesting!🖤

You adored the arrogance that oozed off your boyfriend after he won a race.

You couldn’t explain it. You couldn’t explain the fact that if it had been any other person on the planet, you would have scrunched your nose up in disgust and declared it an ick. But something about how cocky and sure of himself after a race win made you desperate to get your hands on Daniel the first second you could, your fingers itching to tear that race suit off him.

And he knew that. And he fucking loved it.

He had been desperate to get to you after the podium ceremony, practically running off after the photos had been taken and finding you on his way towards his driver’s room.

The trophy was shoved off to the side the second the door clicked shut and your hands were already on him as your fingers nimbly moved to unzip his race suit and get him undressed as quickly as you could.

But you were both impatient and needy and neither one of you had time to deal with the details of his race suit or the oddly confusing buttons of your dress. Instead, Daniel pushed his race suit until it was pooled at his knees and slipped your panties off before flipping up the skirt of your dress so he could sink into you.

“Yes, yes, yes,” you moaned, completely unashamed in the noises you made as your boyfriend thrusted up into you with quick, short thrusts.

“That’s it, baby, squeeze around me,” Daniel groaned as he watched you bounce up and down on his cock, the neckline of your dress pulled down so he could watch the way your tits jiggled with each movement.

“Shit, you feel so good,” you whined as you leaned down, pressing your lips against his in a sloppy kiss. “You’re so fucking sexy when you win.”

Daniel’s ego soared as his hands moved around to squeeze your cheeks. “Yeah?”

“Yeah, so fucking hot watching you dominate them,” you muttered against his lips, your nails digging into the fabric of his fireproofs that he hadn’t gotten the chance to take off just yet.

“I like dominating you better,” he remarked with a cheesy grin, smacking your ass until the sound echoed through the small room.

“Danny,” you whined.

“My needy girl,” he cooed mockingly as he held your hips still, shuffling in his seat as he thrusted up into you. “Need me to do all the hard work, hm? You’re just too pretty to be tiring yourself out.”

“Need you so bad,” you whimpered.

“You got me, baby,” Daniel groaned, feeling his orgasm quickly approaching. With your pretty moans and the way you were clenching around him, he was just seconds away from coming when—

“OH MY GOD, MY EYES!”

Just as quickly as the door opened, it slammed shut and you both sat there, Daniel’s cock still deep inside you, as you stared at the door with wide eyes.

“Max, what the fuck?” Daniel called out, his hands rubbing up and down your thighs when he felt you squirm uncomfortably on his lap.

“We have media duties! Christian told me to come get you, I didn’t know you’d be fucking! God, who even fucks without locking the door.”

Your cheeks burned in embarrassment as you moved to get up but Daniel’s hands kept you where you were.

“Tell Christian I’ll be five minutes,” he called out to his teammate on the other side of the door.

“Gross!”

“Fuck off, Verstappen, and let me worship my pretty girlfriend,” Daniel remarked, grinning when he felt you clench around him.

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libraryofloveletters · 8 months

Text

Find Your Way Home

Daniel Ricciardo x Engineer!Fem!Reader

Warnings: the curse that is mclaren racing, < mclaren/zak slander, the highs and lows of Danny's career, monaco 2016, horner warning lmao, a few bitter words, angst, unspoken feelings, sadness, 2022 silly season and a few swear words.

Word Count: 4.6k

Author's Note: after plotting this, i realized that The Red String Of Me And You follows a similar timeline but this one is more detailed and sooo much sexier of me so enjoy it :)

---

RedBull Racing - 2014; Montreal, Canada.

Under-qualified crossed your mind every time you got into your chair on the pit wall.

You had recently graduated and you were lucky enough to snag a job with Red Bull Racing. You were told it would be a job at the factory, that you would be handling the reviews from the races from an engineering point of view.

Now you were sitting on the pit wall in Montreal, your driver in your ear. "Are we set?" His voice came through.

Your eyes scanned over the screens, pressing the button. "We're all set, Daniel."

Daniel was gunning for his first race win and you've been hoping and praying every weekend that he'd win. It was your first time as a race engineer and you were starting to think you two hadn't fully clicked yet, hence why you've yet to get a win.

He starts in P6 and his teammate Sebastian, was in P3 this weekend. There's a lot of pressure when your teammate is a 4 time world champion and you're sure Daniel felt it, especially on weekends like this.

You sat patiently, buzzing into him once more before they started the countdown. "Be safe."

"Safe is my middle name, y/n."

"Whatever you say, Joseph." The use of his actual middle name earned you a laugh. The radio falls silent; three, two, one, lights out.

It's a gruesome 70 laps, there's overtaking left and right, Daniel fights his way up to P3 and you're praying he can do what he does best. You watch as the laps count down towards the final one.

67, 68, 69, and into the final corner. The navy car crossed the line and it takes you a second to catch yourself. Christian squeezes your arm from next to you, a massive grin on his face when you register what just happened.

"YOU DID IT!!" You shouted into the radio, Daniel's laughter and hollering filled your ears and your heart with love and happiness, "we did it!" he shouts, correcting you.

Everyone's running, you're following the mechanics to under the podium, all of you squished up against the fence like sardines as the navy team awaited their two drivers.

Daniel had won, followed by Nico in P2 for Mercedes and Sebastian in P3 for RedBull.

Seb runs over to his half of the garage, there's a sea of navy and everyone is mixed up together but when Daniel gets out of his car, he's looking for one person and one person only. He spots you, a big smile on your face and even though he knows you'd never admit it, there are tears in your eyes.

The driver jumps straight into your arms, putting all of his weight on you and the fence. A few of the mechanics squeeze into the hug, holding Daniel so he doesn't crush you.

Your hands cup his face, well what would be his face under the helmet. His visor is lifted, brown eyes meet yours; the crinkles by his eyes signalling to the massive smile under the helmet.

"We fucking did it!" His shout comes out muffled.

You smile, nodding. Daniel is standing again, still holding onto you. He leans into you, arms wrapped around you with his face buried in your shoulder. You kiss the side of his helmet, hand reaching down to rub the top of his back. You internally gag at the dampness that meets your hand but that was the least of your concerns.

Daniel just won his first race.

Proud was an understatement.

RedBull Racing - 2016; Monte Carlo, Monaco.

He could taste the victory.

The win was reaching out to him, the finish line on the tips of his fingers and he could feel it slipping away from him.

"Pit now," you called to him, Daniel was confused by your sudden decision. "Tyres are good, y/n."

"Team decision, please pull into the pit lane."

Daniel groans letting you know he'll be there in a few seconds.

You saw when he pulled into the pits, watching as the mechanics scrabbled to get the tyres ready in time. They had Daniel sitting there, his position falling with each wasted second.

"What the fuck!" His radio was still on, you weren't even sure what you could tell him in that moment to make him feel better. He pulls out with a sense of speed you'd never seen before. He finds himself racing to beat Lewis coming out of the pit lane but the Mercedes turns into the corner before he gets the chance too, overtaking him.

"Why did we pit?" He asks you, you pretend not to hear him as you look over at Christian. The older man gives you a look, urging you to answer the driver.

Daniel calls your name once again, his voice making you want to cry; all of the horrible emotions mixed in with the guilt of the horrible pit stop made you sick.

You finally answer; "team decision."

He scoffs, it's like you can feel the tension over the radio, see the way his hands tighten around the steering wheel as he goes into the tunnel. "Bullshit, y/n."

"I'm sorry Dan-" "Stop, nothing you could say will make this better."

And with that, the radio fell silent. The nauseous feeling builds with each passing second, your leg shaking and your eyes staying fixed to the screen until Daniel crosses the finish line in P2.

It was better than nothing but you knew he could have won the race, you knew he would blame the team, blame the crew, blame you for this loss.

Christian squeezes your shoulder as he gets up, a smile on his face - his quiet way of telling you good job. He knows how difficult drivers can be, especially when things like this happen. The race engineers are the first to take the blame, you called him into the pit so you'd take the brunt of the anger.

You nod, hearing Daniel's voice over the radio, "place?"

"P2. Well done, Daniel."

"Okay."

Daniel stood next to Lewis, Checo on the other side of the Mercedes driver. It was quiet as you watched Daniel shake the champagne bottle, spraying over his fellow drivers. He had a smile on his face but you knew he wasn't happy. You knew him like the back of your hand and once again, the nauseous feeling creeped up the back of your throat, the feeling strangling the life out of you with each passing second. You had to go, you couldn't stand there and watch him like that, knowing you were the one he was blaming.

And that he did; not in so many words but the bitterness in his voice and way he spoke was enough to tell you he did not want to be there.

The interview replayed in the debrief that afternoon, the press officers wanting to go over something he had said.

"It hurts, this one hurts a lot. More than any other."

His words hurt you.

You couldn't even bring yourself to look at him, let alone be in the same room as him. There was a sense of despair, you couldn't shake it.

It wasn't until you were about to leave that you found yourself turning back, walking in the direction of his driver's room. You stopped outside the door; D. Ricciardo, 3 - with an Australian flag beside it. As you were about to knock, Michael opens the door, a bit shocked to see you.

"Is he in there?" You asked quietly and he nodded, stepping aside to let you in. Michael shuts the door on his way out, leaving the two of you alone.

Daniel's yet to turn around or yet to realize you were there. "I'm sorry," you speak, your quiet voice startling him. "I'm not sure what went wrong."

"Everything did."

"It wasn't my decision."

"You're my engineer; when I'm out there, it's me and you. It was your decision, y/n. Only yours."

"I'm sorry, Daniel. I really am."

"Nothing you can say will fix it, and I know you're sorry but right now, I don't want your sorry."

You nod, taking a step back. "Then what can I say? Or do?"

"You can leave," his arms fold over his chest. "Because if you stay, I might say some things I can't take back. I know we aren't cool right now but I don't want to hurt you, y/n."

"You already have," you give him a tight lipped smile, the sadness clear across your face. "Goodnight Daniel."

RedBull Racing - 2018; Monte Carlo, Monaco.

It was off to a good start, Daniel had managed to give it his all and snag pole position on Saturday. He was in a good mood, there's a smile on his face and the sun was shining down on Monaco which was a nice change from the rain that was setting up in the morning.

The cars on the grid, the drivers counting down the seconds to lights out. You buzz into him, waiting to hear the little click. Daniel's breathing comes through from his side.

“50% done, remember?” You tell him.

“50% done.” He says, the radio goes quiet as he waits for lights out.

Daniel drove amazingly, despite the issues the car was giving him. He finds himself aggravated half way through the race, the car giving out on him and losing power; thus losing hope in himself. The win was slipping through his fingers all over again with each passing corner and turn.

The weight was lifted off his shoulders when you watched him cross the finish line as the winner.

"P1 baby!!!!" You shout into the radio, Daniel's hollering fills the line and a big smile on both of your faces. "We fucking did it!!" He laughed, driving his cool down lap.

You were by the fence, watching as he climbed onto the halo of his car. Daniel's hand in a fist, placed on his chest as the team cheered. You're sure you've got the goofiest grin on your face, squished between Christian and Adrian.

Much like he did after his first race win, he makes a beeline straight for you, his arms open as he jumps into yours. Once again, you find yourself struggling to hold the man up but you try your best, arms wrapped around him.

Daniel's squished against you, your hands on his helmet, holding where his jaw would be. "Got that other 50%."

"Redemption day baby!" He shouts, giving you one last squeeze.

The rest of the afternoon was like heaven on earth; the smell of champagne, RedBull and chlorine covered everyone, you all watched as Daniel dived into the pool of the energy station.

"Come on!" He shouts to you but you shake your head, "I'm not getting in there."

Daniel pulls himself out of the pool, running over to you. "Dan, no." Your finger stuck out to warn him, the man comes closer. "Stop it," you get up, about to run away. He grabs you before you get the chance to run away, his arms wrapped tightly around you before he jumps into the pool.

"Daniel!" You scream when you get back up to the surface, "oh my god!" You laughed, your hand passed over your face to wipe away the water. He laughs, swimming - more like blobbing his way over to you, his race suit was weighing him down.

He grabs your arm, pulling you to him. The team photographer takes a photo of the two of you; arms wrapped around each other, covered in disgusting pool water with the world's biggest million watt smiles on your face.

You smile at the man next to you, "I'm so proud of you."

"I'm proud of you," he smiles, hugging you once more. "I couldn't have done it without you."

RedBull Racing - 2018; Abu Dhabi.

The announcement over the summer break threw everyone for a loop.

Breaking News: Daniel Ricciardo set to join Renault Racing for the 2019 season.

You weren't sure how to handle it or what prompted it.

Well that's not entirely true; after Monaco, things went downhill fast. There was bad result after bad result and it was weighing heavily on him.

When he returned from the summer break, you didn't say anything to him about the departure from the team. You knew he must have thought about it, you don't just up and leave a team just like that. It was a hard decision for him to make.

The last thing you wanted to do was make him feel worse.

It was his last day, the race was over and Daniel had made his rounds to say goodbye to everyone. You had been busy when he made his way around the garage and hospitality but you felt like a general goodbye wasn't enough for the man who you have spent almost every day with for the last 4 years of your life.

You knocked on the door of his driver's room, Michael smiles when he opens the door. "Come in, y/n."

Daniel turns when he hears your name. "I uh, I forgot something in the garage, I'll be back." Micheal says, announcing that he's leaving so you'd get a moment of privacy.

The two of you were quiet, looking at each other for a moment before you spoke.

You break the silence. “So this is it?”

“Yeah.” He nods, shifting from one foot to the other. You hum, lips pressed together as you look around. You'd never seen the room so empty. “Do you really have to go ?”

Daniel smiles, “afraid so, bags are packed.”

“You could always unpack.”

He smiled, his heart aching at the sight of you. You reached out, your hand placed on his warm cheek. “But you’ll come back, right?”

A sad smile on his face, bringing his own hand up to rest on yours. “In another life, maybe.”

“You promise?” You stuck your pinky out towards him.

He nods, interlocking his pinky with yours like you were children. “I promise.”

Renault Racing - 2020; Imola, Italy.

The rain poured down, the night sky as dark as it could possibly get as you pulled your hood over your head; the race hadn't gone as well as you'd like but you were no longer needed for the night, on your way back to your hotel for some sleep and then home before you head off to Turkey.

You could barely see where you were going let alone hear anything over the rain. The sudden shelter over you caused you to look up; an umbrella, a black and yellow one to be precise.

The man next to you smiles when you turn to see who was next to you. "Hello stranger," he grinned, the big smile on his face.

"Hello Daniel," you smiled.

The two of you hadn't spoken much since he left RedBull, it was a hi and a hello here and there in passing but you've yet to have a proper conversation. Frankly, you aren't sure what to say without it being awkward.

"Need a ride?" He asks, his arm over your shoulder to pull you away from the rain. "If it's not too much trouble." You pull the hood off of your head, flattening a few fly aways.

Daniel leads you towards the parking lot, holding the umbrella over your head until you get into the car. The man backed out of the parking spot, the sound of the rain on the windshield filled the silence, you translated the road signs in your head as he passed them by.

"You looked good up there today," you say quietly, Daniel glanced at you when he came to a stop. "You were always suited for the podium."

"Top step though," he smiles and you nod in agreement. "I'm sorry.. about the race. Sucks for Max and Alex."

You shrugged; A DNF for Max and P15 for Alex, so all in all, a shit weekend. "That's racing, what can you do?"

"The good and the bad." He pulls off when the light turns green. "You know how it is," you smiled, picking at the chipped nail polish on your index finger.

"Daniel, can I ask you something?"

"Oh full name, you've got me shakin' in my boots, y/n; but yes you can."

You shift in the leather seat, smooth and expensive and suddenly you're aware of how wet your hoodie is. The question you wanted to ask slips away momentarily as you think of how much this must be damaging the seat.

"Y/n," he calls out to you, glancing over to make sure you were alright after you had gone quiet. "What did you want to ask me?"

"Why are you running, Daniel ?"

The question catches him off guard, the car comes to a stop as he pulls into the parking lot of your hotel. His jaw hung open a bit as if he was unsure how to answer you; which he was. You watched as he blinked, trying to gather the thoughts in his head into a cohesive sentence.

"I'm not."

You can't help but chuckle; those who are running never seem to realize that they are, in fact, running.

"You are. You have a habit of doing that, Daniel."

You reach over, your hand rests atop of his; Daniel's skin is warm in comparison to yours that's still ice cold from the rain. His free hand moves, his index finger tracing up and down your hands, from your knuckles down to your wrist; another habit of his. He would distract himself during boring debriefs, his fingers pinching at yours under the table.

He's quiet, still unsure how to answer the statement that he knows in his heart was true. His fingers wandering over your hand, the raised skin by your thumb felt out a pattern identical to his; a rose in the same spot only slightly smaller in size.

Daniel had talked you into it. Another habit of his, getting you to do things you'd never do otherwise.

You were scared, you thought it would hurt but somehow he managed to talk you into it. There you were in his hotel room, Daniel's hand in your free one as you two got matching tattoos.

It felt like a million years ago - so much has changed since then.

You speak again, breaking the silence. "I hope you find what you're looking for at McLaren. You deserve some peace, Dan. You and I both know it."

McLaren Racing - 2021; Monza, Italy.

Back where he belongs.

A hell of a drive, something only Daniel could have pulled off after the horrendous start that was McLaren. You knew it was the car, not him; if anyone asked you, the car was always at fault. Daniel was one of the most talented drivers you had ever come across and had the pleasure of working with. You'd tell anyone who asked, anyone who'd listen to you.

It was a lacklustre weekend for the team; Checo was in P5 and Max had a DNF after an accident with Lewis, which caused both drivers to lose out on points that were needed for the championship.

Despite RedBull not having a driver on the podium, you and a few of the mechanics that used to work on Daniel's side of the garage went to watch the podium to cheer him on.

You watched as he and Lando did a shoey, your face twisting into disgust much like the younger McLaren driver. Valtteri watched in a bit of confusion and disgust, shaking his head as he took a swing of champagne from the bottle like a normal person.

The champagne bottle in one hand and the other on the railing as he climbed up. Daniel shouts, a big grin on his face as he lifts the bottle above his head. Everyone cheers for him, clapping and shouting for the winner. You were needed back in the garage for a meeting so you couldn't stick around long but you made sure to text Daniel.

To Daniel Ricciardo: Congrats winner! Back on the top step.

You got caught up in the meetings, back to back that felt never ending. Eventually you have a chance to check your phone but when you feel your pocket, it's not there.

You must have put it down somewhere. You find yourself retracing your steps, asking each person you saw as you passed by.

"Y/n!" GP calls for you, getting your attention. "Looking for this?" He holds up a phone with a navy blue case, your initials inscribed in gold on the bottom.

You let out a breath, "how'd you know?"

He hands the phone over to you, shrugging. "You know I always know." You roll your eyes at your co-worker's theatrics and thank him for your phone before walking off. You see you've missed a few messages so you scroll through. One in particular catches your eye.

From Daniel Ricciardo: Thanks boss lady! Congrats to you too, you helped make me the man I am today.

The message pulled on your heart strings; it was true. You and Daniel were so young when you got paired up together. You learnt a lot about life and yourselves, how to be a good person and what you wanted from life, and most importantly, how to get it.

You grew up together and Daniel would always hold a special place in your heart.

McLaren Racing - 2022; Spa-Francorchamps, Belgium.

You couldn't believe it.

After everything he's done for the team, he'd hurt him like that. What could you expect from a team when their CEO was a walking snake?

It was a chain reaction.

Sebastian had thrown everyone for a loop in Hungary, announcing that he would be retiring at the end of the 2022 season. That left Aston looking for a replacement that came from Fernando. There was an opening at Alpine now which they just assumed they'd fill with their reserve driver, Oscar.

Safe to say Oscar wasn't a fan of that plan, actually he wasn't even aware of that plan.

While all of this was going on, Daniel had publicly committed to McLaren for the next season and McLaren was giving away his seat to different drivers behind his back, including none other than Alpine's reserve driver, Oscar.

Eventually it did come out that Daniel would be leaving McLaren at the end of the 2022 season to no fault of his own.

Returning from the summer break, everyone is left to face the music; particularly Daniel.

His music shuts off when he pulls the key from the ignition. You had forgotten your pass in the car, walking all the way back to the parking lot to get it.

"Morning, y/n!" Daniel grins, stepping out of the car.

You smiled at him, knowing you can't show the anger you were feeling to that wretched team he has to work with for the rest of the season. "Morning, Danny. How are you?"

He laughs.

The question feels so stupid, he feels so stupid. Obviously there's the obvious, he's angry, upset, sad, mad; at who was the question. There's so many thoughts in his head, he isn't sure how to answer your question.

"Daniel, c'mon. Seriously. "

"I'll be okay, y/n. Life works in weird ways."

A huff slips past your lips, arms folded across your chest much like a disapproving mother. "Life working in weird ways is finding something you thought you lost years ago, not you getting sold out of your seat without your knowledge."

He gives you a sad smile, nodding in agreement. "I know."

You can't help but reach out, a hand on his shoulder. "You'll be okay."

"I always am, aren't I?"

Red Bull Racing - 2022; Abu Dhabi.

Headphones covered your ears, legs folded under you as you went over the last set of race footage.

You hadn't heard the door open, your eyes glued to the screen only looking away to scribbling something down on the page next to your laptop.

You barely get a second to look back before someone's hands over your eyes, startling you. Instinctively, you brought your own hands up, grabbing the person. The raised skin along the wrist and the arms was enough to signal who it was but the smell of his cologne filled the room. You let go of his arms, pulling the headphones off your ears.

Daniel smiles, his hands on your shoulders before you stand up and turn to face him. “Miss me, miss me, now you gotta-“

“Gotta what, Dan?”

“Kiss me,” he says, his signature cheeky grin on his face. You can’t help but smile, pressing a kiss to his cheek. You smooth the wrinkles on his navy blue shirt, admiring him in the colours that meant home to him, to you.

Your hands held his face, “you came back.”

“Pinky promises are sacred.”

“That they are.”

Scuderia AlphaTauri - 2023; Spa-Francorchamps, Belgium.

He's back on the grid, his focus was on racing.

Daniel's excited to be back, it felt good to be back. Racing wasn't a burden anymore. Yuki was happy to have him, his new teammate welcoming him with a smile and a hug as did the rest of the Alpha Tauri team before he made his way to his driver's room.

The door was unlocked, left ajar slightly. Daniel just assumed the team was doing a last check, making sure things were in order.

He wasn't expecting a person to be in there. He found a woman, her back turned to him as she scribbled down something on the board.

He knows that handwriting from anywhere. The words let's fucking go written in all caps in bright blue.

"Hello," he calls, you turn with the marker still in hand. "Hello," you smiled.

Daniel can't help but laugh, "what are you doing here? Come to welcome me back ?"

"Something like that."

At that moment, Daniel noticed you weren't wearing your usual navy blue uniform. Today was different; a different logo, a different cut.

"What are you wearing? Why are you wearing that?" He points to the Alpha Tauri logo on your shirt.

Your brows furrow, a bit confused by his reaction. You thought he'd be happy to see you. "Do you not need a race engineer or.. you're just gonna wing it? Maybe you could borrow Michael to do it?"

"Don't be a smart ass," he rolled his eyes, dropping his bags as he walked over to you. "Thank you," he whispers, pulling you into a bone crushing hug.

You pat his back, trying to wiggle away from him. "No need to thank me, we have a lot of work to do."

"I've barely been here for 5 minutes and you're already hassling me."

"Someone's gotta do it," you smiled, leaving him there to settle in.

It wasn't until it was time for practice that you saw the man again, you're across from him on the pit wall, looking over the stats before you hear the radio buzz.

“We all set?” He asks.

You look over the screens. “All set. Be safe.”

“Safe is my middle name, Y/n.” The words remind you of the path you walked along many many years ago.

You smiled, waving to him as he pulled out of the garage. “Whatever you say, Joseph.”

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lxclerc · 9 months

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𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 | 𝐝𝐫𝟑

summary... it’s never the right time for you and daniel, always something pulling the two of you away from each other. requested... yes by literally everyone. yall were coming at me with pitch forks for this warning... age gap (7 years), emotional cheating, physical cheating, angst, angst, angst, light smut (more on fade to black) pairing... daniel ricciardo x horner! reader

note... i am tagging each and everyone of you who asked for a part 2 bc this fic has quite literally loomed over my head ever since i posted it a year ago. literally everytime i open this godforsaken app, someone is offering me their first born for the part 2 so yall better give me all the notes!!!

𝙢𝙖𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩

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high tide came and brought you in

“if you could go anywhere in the world right now, where would you go?”

the question caught you off guard as your friend drunkenly pondered over it out loud. where would you go? you were sober enough to say home, the most acceptable answer that would not invite any other follow up questions. it’s simple and doesn't need a discussion. the reason it caught you off guard wasn’t just that though but because your answer was instantaneous in your head. your answer isn’t a where but rather a who, came your bitter realization.

and you knew that if you could go anywhere in the world right now, it’d be him you’d go to. he always lingers in the back of your mind, everything that reminded him of you tends to bring a certain kind of aching and longing you’ve grown to resent over the months and years spent without him.

daniel sent you away and deep in you, you know he meant good. he’d done a selfless thing, loving you and setting you free. but missing him was unbearable, loving him all consuming and you resent him for doing this to you. you resent the world for making you fall for a man without letting you have him.

still, you did as he told you. you went back to school, pursuing a career in a field you knew he’d be proud of, achieving your dreams and living your life as though a part of you hadn’t been left with him.

your friends carry on with the party. half of university was partying which is a scene familiar to you. this time, it’s on the beach, the salty air and sound of crashing waves echoing with the sound of the music and chatter. still though, you can’t help but scan the place as though looking for him among the crowd of people the same way you always would. you miss the way you’d find his eyes already on you, pools of brown dripping like honey on your skin.

but he’s never there and you feel dirty whenever another man looks at you, their gazes too eager as they look at you as though you’re a piece of meat, never gentle like his as though you’re aphrodite herself walking among mere mortals.

you miss him is the ugly truth. you miss him so fucking terribly it makes you angry. you don’t want to miss him. you no longer want to love him. loving him hurts, as though he’s clawing at your chest and squeezing your heart together in a sick sort of torture.

but even before he touched you, you were his. all he had to do was look at you. you exist in two places – here and wherever he is.

eventually as the night progresses on, you move away from the party. you’re in some fancy country club and the tile is expensive on your feet as you step out of your heels and walked towards the beach, feeling the cool sand against your skin.

in hindsight, you really shouldn’t have been surprised to find him in a place like this but despite looking for him wherever you go, you’d never expect to find him. searching for him has become a comfort the same way longing for him has – in a sick, twisted and painful way.

but he’s here now and in the one time you hadn’t searched for him, he found you. the moment you’d spotted his figure looking out at sea, he turned to you as though a gravitational pull connected you to him.

one year, three months and fourteen days. that was the last time you saw him but he looked no different from the man who’d brought you back to your hotel room only to say goodbye.

and then he smiled and it was as though the sun shone on you again.

“honey,” he says and your heart trembles.

daniel.

it was too early. and you’re drunk and you aren’t entirely sure if you were dreaming or not.

but he stands before you, eyes of brown looking as though you’re aphrodite herself and he can’t quite believe he gets to stand before you. eyes of brown that seem to be sobbing without tears. daniel.

you’re still not talking and he’s letting you, watching you so intently as though he’s memorizing your face. he looked the exact same but you know what he must be seeing. you look nothing like the woman he left behind. you’d cut your hair short and dyed it. long gone were your summer dress, replaced by tight fitting ones that showed off your body. you feel different and you tried so hard to make sure you wouldn’t recognize yourself in the mirror. you hated seeing the woman who couldn’t make him stay.

but in his eyes, you see your reflection and you recognize her well.

“daniel,” you muttered as the crashing waves touched your feet. would you love me now? you wanted to ask.

he smiled again. “you look beautiful as you always are.”

please touch me, you wanted to beg. soft eyes and soft soft hands. you’re lonely without him.

you manage a grin. “sure, old man.”

the laugh that he let out echoed against your soul. “i’m being honest.”

you missed him. god, you missed him so fucking much.

but daniel still would not let himself love you. not yet, not now that you’re finally building something for yourself. you have friends and have set goals. not yet.

“y/n!” someone calls from behind you but you’re hesitant to take your eyes off of daniel, terrified he’d become a figment of your imagination the moment you do. but your friend's familiar calls force you to. “come on, we have to go.”

you ignore her, turning back to daniel and he smiles at you, offering his hand for you to shake. this is the best he can offer for now. “i’ll see you around, kid.”

you wanted to cry, wanted to scream that it’s so unfair, but you smile sadly as he shook his hand, his calloused fingers so familiar against yours.

“in a few years,” you say.

and as the ocean brought him back to you, the waves must return to the sea.

but you were still gone and gone, gone and gone

the next time you see daniel again, you were twenty four. you’re in your last year of university, applying for your doctorate. you loved academia, you loved your two cats and your little apartment downtown, you loved science and the galaxy it holds and you eventually realized that this is why he let you go. he wanted you to have this — be more than someone who just follows a man around country after country.

he wanted you to grow, wanted you to find the things you really loved without influence from him. he wanted you to find your independence and learn to stand on your own two feet.

max brought you here. it’s his first world champion and as his self proclaimed best friend, he refused to allow you to skip this one and so you pulled up your big girl pants and got on with it, arriving in abu dhabi on friday.

by some cruel twist of fate, he’s the first person you find the moment you enter the paddock. it would have been rude to ignore him and so you smile even though you can clearly see the woman next to him and the way she stands close.

goddamn it.

it hurt. it hurt seeing her there. it hurt seeing her cluelessly smile at you. the way he looks at you now, eyes of brown full of silent apologies, looking as though he wanted to reach over and touch you, to comfort you.

you release a shaky breathe, raising your hand in an pathetic attempt of a wave before you walk past him. you aren’t the same young kid like before. now, you have enough self reservation to not actively put yourself in a situation that would only hurt you. you don’t need to play besties with daniel’s new girlfriend.

the moment you enter the red bull motorhome, you hit max at the back of his head.

“what?” he exclaimed as you glared at him.

“you’re an idiot,” was all you said before moving towards your father. you’d ignore daniel and his girlfriend. you’re here to support max – even if he is a stupid idiot – and there’s no need for you to obsess over daniel.

but of course, you still do anyway. even as you watch the race, you’re watching him. he looks good, amazing, fucking edible. he looks like he stepped right out of your dirtiest dreams, all thick neck and stable arms. he looks beautiful, absolutely gorgeous and breathtaking and you selfishly want him just for you. but you’ve always wanted that and you’ve never been allowed to have him.

and then you’re watching her. she’s grace herself, really. she’s exactly the kind of woman he needed and you wonder if she knows about you and then you wonder what it is about her. what is it about her that made it so that daniel thought she’s good enough for him to love when he never could you?

“mate, it’s getting creepy,” max said as he took the seat before you. he looks tired but he looks determined and the way the hair falls over his face makes you smile. max is a very special person to you and you know that he always will. you hold him close to your heart and you know you’d move the earth for him.

you reach over, fixing the collar of his red bull shirt. “shut up.”

“her name’s caroline,” max says. “if you want to get to know her then just approach her.”

you glared at him. you don’t want to know her name. you don’t want to know what her laugh sounds like or the color of her eyes. you don’t want to know what made daniel fall in love with her. you don’t want to know her.

“shut up,” you say again. “i’m still blaming you.”

max laughed and you think him annoying you might just be his way of distracting himself from the race so you let him. you let him talk on and on and on the entire time till he’s needed back in the motorhome. you let him steal yur ice cream and tap your nose.

but when you turned back to her, caroline, you find him staring right back at you, anger and jealousy in those brown eyes you missed so much.

and it was like you’re twenty again, petty and young as you glared right back at him. he had no reason to be jealous when he has her beside him. he has no right to be jealous when he’s the one who’s never allowed the two of you to be more.

these hands had to let it go free

that night, he called you for the first time in three years. his name lit up your phone and your hand shook as you picked it up. his picture, smiling up at you taken at your twentieth birthday stares right back at you.

“daniel,” you breathe out as you press the phone against your ear. you’d arrived back in your hotel room two hours ago smelling of champagne and victory. max’s world championship trophy is laying next to you after being forgotten because your best friend was far too drunk to grab it before his girlfriend dragged him out. throughout the party, you avoided daniel like the plague, keeping to your side of the room and never straying towards him.

“i missed you,” he says from the other end, voice cracking and slurring. he’s drunk and you push back the blanket as you enter the bathroom, hand gripping your phone. “but fuck it, i don’t miss this.”

“what are you saying?”

“he’s my best mate, y/n.” there goes your name. not sweetheart or honey. he says your name like it’s sacred, something he’s only ever allowed to say when he’s at his most vulnerable, completely raw and baring his soul to you. “and i wanted to fucking punch his face the entire night.”

you close your eyes. this is familiar to you. daniel and his raw honesty when he’s drunk. daniel and his jealousy of max. this is all so familiar to you that you feel twenty again. you feel young and out of control and so drunk in love with a man you can’t have that it physically hurts. he’s ripped you off the past few years where you’ve grown into yourself. you’re twenty again and so tragically in love.

“i wanted to punch his fucking face because his touching you, because i’m not allowed to touch you,” he continues as you sink to the floor.

“you’re the only one who’s never let yourself touch me, daniel,” you whispered on the phone, broken down from one phone call.

he laughs bitterly and you might as well not have said anything. “and here i am, can’t even sleep next to my damn girlfriend because i keep thinking of you. it’s so unfair.”

you wanted to laugh too. unfair? how does he get to talk about unfair when he’d been the one to create this mess for the two of you? how dare he talk about being unfair when he’s the one who’s with another girl? this is unfair. it’s unfair to you. he doesn’t deserve to talk about it being unfair.

the night he left you in your hotel room on your twenty first birthday, you’d called his name again and again like a child. you hoped by some magical thing that he’ll appear. you were desperate.

“you shouldn’t have come back,” he says. “not yet. we both weren’t ready.”

you wipe the tears falling to your cheeks. “and when will that happen? when will we be ready? maybe it’s time to accept that it isn’t us.”

you heard him let out a shaky breath. “don’t say that. don’t say it.”

“i’m so tired of waiting. if it wasn’t us then and it isn’t us now, why do we still believe that it’s us someday?”

“ask me to stay,” he whispers. “ask me to stay and i will. ask me to drop her and i will. i will drop everything if you ask me to.”

you cry, pulling your knees against your chest. “goodbye, dan.”

struggled through the night with someone new

the next time you see daniel again, you invited him. you’re twenty five, it’s two thousand and twenty two, you’re engaged and you’d gotten arrogant.

you met your fiance, james, in university. you’re in the same program and the same friend group though you never paid much attention to him. for the most part, you never really paid much attention to anyone. six months later and he asked you on a date, one you’d declined without a second thought. it didn’t matter how many guys asked you out, you always declined, daniel in the back of your mind always reminding you of what you’re truly waiting for.

but james never treated you any differently. he never made it awkward and never put you on the spot. for the most part, you both acted like it never happened. but you applied to the same doctorate program and coincidentally ended up in apartments right next to each other. he was a comfort, a friend you already knew that you could rely on. he never made anymore advances towards you but it was inevitable to grow closer.

he’s stability and curiosity. he never once pulled back whenever you touched him or apologized for liking you. it was a breath of fresh air – to be admired so freely. you did your thesis together, hands tightly clamped together as you defended it.

you were the one to ask james out on a date, knowing he wouldn’t again in fear of making you uncomfortable. and after leaning on each other as friends for so long, transitioning to become lovers was so easy, you didn’t have to worry what anyone would say or think of you. you didn’t have to worry what your family would think. everything was easy with him.

james was so different from the type of love you were used to. you could love him without guilt, without pain and longing. you could love him simply, easily. you didn’t need to ask him to love you back, didn’t need to wonder if he’d still love you tomorrow. it was so easy being with him and you’d gotten lazy. waiting and hurting and crying for daniel was exhausting.

you wanted a love you didn’t have to fight for.

you’ve convinced yourself that you no longer felt anything for daniel, gaslighting yourself into believing that you’d close that chapter and left it in the past. you can move on now. there was no need for you constantly being miserable and lonely waiting for him to be ready.

and yet here you were, your fiance’s arm around you as you stare at the front door. you shouldn’t have invited him. there was no reason for you to do so but you wanted to prove yourself. you wanted to prove to yourself that he no longer affected you. daniel is in the past and you’ve told yourself repeatedly that you’ve let him go but now you wanted to show yourself that you have.

if you’re lucky, maybe he wouldn’t attend at all.

“are you okay, love?” james whispered against your ear, having noticed your stiff posture. you spent weeks planning your engagement party, stressing over the smallest details but now you don’t seem to be enjoying yourself.

you loved this about him – the way he’s able to read you like an open book. james knows there was someone before him – someone who’d left you broken and torn apart. he just didn’t know that person would be attending today.

you nod, taking a sip from the champagne glass you’d been holding as an excuse to stop your hands from fidgeting. “just a bit nervous from the crowd.”

“don’t worry too much. it’s just friends and family.” he gives you an assuring smile, accepting your reasoning as he pulls you closer towards him to try and comfort you.

you’re an idiot, the biggest one there is. max told you himself after you told him that you sent the invite to daniel. you’re a massive idiot and you’re in denial and you set your own trap, tempting yourself when there was no need to and now you were going to hurt james because the moment daniel entered the room, your breath was knocked out of you, heart beating furiously as though it recognized him.

it was daniel. how can you be so stupid?

his eyes meets yours and you missed the way those eyes of brown settle on your skin, grazing as though his soul was touching yours. but they’re sad this time – sad and exhausted and defeated and you can practically hear the way your heart shatters. it was daniel. it has always been daniel. it will always be daniel. how stupid were you to think otherwise? how stupid were you to believe you could ever forgot the way your heart and soul roars back to life the moment he enters the room.

you’ll break james’ heart, you’re breaking your own and you’ve broken his.

the entire time, you and james had stood before the door, greeting all of your guests and showing them where they can wait. you absolutely had no plans to greet daniel. it was bad enough that he was here, but james, sweet sweet james, who had no idea what he was doing dragging you towards the formula one driver, hadn’t gotten the memo.

he didn’t know that having daniel’s eyes on you so close would set wildfires in your stomach and he didn’t know how exhausting and difficult it was to contain those wildfires. he didn’t know that he was burning himself as he all but dragged you in front of him.

“hey,” your fiance says cluelessly. “daniel ricciardo!”

daniel is looking at you and you feel frozen under his gaze. it’s heavy. he makes you feel heavy, like you were cheating on james simply by looking at you. you feel nauseous but with guilt eating up at every cell in your stomach. but you shouldn’t feel guilty. he had no right to make you feel guilty for moving on. he moved on. last you him, he had a girlfriend. why aren’t you allowed to do the same? why can’t you go on with your life and build a future with a nice man that isn’t him?

“i’m a big fan,” james says cheerfully, offering his hand for daniel to shake and forcing him to tear his gaze away from you.

daniel forces a smile to his face, moving to shake his hand and you know this is the part where you’re supposed to introduce him. daniel is your guest after all and so you clear your throat, hoping your smile isn’t as stiff as you feel like it is.

“james, this is my friend daniel. daniel, my fiance james.” you manage to let out, gripping your champagne glass to avoid having to touch either of them the same way you avoid the way daniel’s eyes hardened when the word fiance tumbled from your lips.

“it’s really nice to meet you, mate,” james says with a massive smile. god he’s so nice and sweet and you hate what you’re doing to him.

daniel says nothing, only smiling and you end this entire interaction the moment you get a chance to. pointing at the snacks table, you turned to him. “there’s food over there and max is around here somewhere. nice seeing you again, daniel.”

you were lying through your goddamn teeth. thankfully, he seems to have taken the hint, walking away without saying another word.

the entire night, you feel his eyes on you. even as james makes his speech declaring his love for you, daniel stares at you with hooded eyes. he looks pissed and sad at the same time and you wanted to scream. stop looking at me! you couldn’t take anymore of this. he’s looking at you as though you’re under a microscope – staring into your soul like he could reach you there.

you’re an idiot and now that he’s in the same room as you are, the illusion has left you. you’re not over daniel because you can never be over him. he’s engraved in your soul, his fingerprints all over your heart. he was, and still is, the sun that made your universe turn. you’re choking and you needed to get away lest you burst.

daniel is overwhelming. he’s terrifying and addicting and you hate him but you’re madly in love with him. and worse of all, you’ll spend the rest of your life being in love with him. you’ll spend the rest of your life wanting him and hurting for him and and longing for him and that’s a goddamn fucking tragedy.

you manage to get through the party, practically dissociating yourself. eventually the guests leave one by one, only your family and closest friends left. you sit on the foyer with max, the dutchman watching you drink champagne straight out of the bottle.

“you shouldn’t have invited him,” he tells you quietly. “you were fucking yourself over.”

you roll your eyes. you stare inside the house where daniel is talking to your father. your dad offered his home for your engagement party. you know he likes james. your mother too and your little siblings can’t get enough of him. that fact almost makes you want to throw up.

“i thought i was over him,” you say.

it’s max’s turn to roll his eyes. “you’re just a good liar. you’ll never be over daniel and he’ll never be over you. even i know that.”

you glared at him. you already know what he’s telling you and quite frankly, you had no desire to hear it again. “i hate you.”

“neither you nor dan would survive this long without me.” max laughed and you threw the throw pillow at him.

not that he’s lying. you met max the same time you did daniel and you clicked immediately. he knows everything, comforted you many times as you pined over dan. he’s your best friend and he’s also daniel’s best friend. he knows more than anyone how deep the connection you two shared.

“go home already,” you tell him. you’re tired and slightly drunk and you just want to go to bed now. “and make sure you take him with you.”

max laughed at the way you said him like it’s a bad taste on your tongue but did as you said anyways.

that night, you laid on the bed you and james shared, you couldn’t sleep. he’s fast asleep next to you, his arm over your stomach as you lay wide awake. you shouldn’t have invited him because now he’s turned your world upside down again. everything you’ve built for yourself was gone the moment his eyes met yours. he’s a plague, sucking all the happiness out of you.

eventually though, the restless night was about to get worse as you picked up your phone, scrolling through your contacts till you found his name. you stared at it for a while, knowing that you shouldn’t but you’re rattled and your self control is at an all time low. you shouldn’t have been trusted to make any types of decisions.

you come back to what you need

daniel was waiting for you when you parked your car outside his apartment building, hand gripping his phone as he watched you step out of the vehicle. four years since he first let you go and one year since he last saw you and you look as beautiful as you ever were.

he shouldn’t have told you to come but he’s so exhausted from staying away, from waiting for the right time. there will never be a right time and tonight, he’s done holding back. he wants you, he always has and he no longer has the energy to stop himself from wanting you.

“i shouldn’t be here,” was the first thing you said as he opened the door for you.

a lazy, almost mocking smile covered his lips. “and yet here you are.”

you glared at him but daniel’s heart was soaring. it’s been so long since you were this close. he can smell the perfume that followed you and the scent of your shampoo. he’s so so tired, he just wanted to hold you.

he’s going to make this as hard as possible, you realize. you’re no longer a child, he doesn’t need to play nice and easy with you anymore. you’re a woman now and he’s going to treat you like one. but you just need to get over this. you need closure. you need to put him in the past where he truly belongs so you can go about your life. you need him out of your system.

daniel may be everything you wanted but it’s time to accept that he’ll never be what you need.

“why did you come?” you asked, wanting to get this over with as quickly as you can. three years pining for him in red bull and four years of longing for him and everything leads you here.

daniel cocked an eyebrow. he’s done with playing nice. “you invited me.”

okay, you walked right into that one. “you still shouldn’t have come.”

daniel wanted to laugh. “i guess we both like doing shit that we shouldn’t do. now the question is, sweetheart, what are you doing here?”

“i’m getting married, daniel,” you whispered. “we need to accept that it isn’t us.”

“i thought you did that in abu dhabi.”

he’s being an asshole. “you’re the one who told me to leave. you don’t get to be mad that i’m moving on.”

“you’re not moving on,” he laughed, leaning against the wall.

you glared at him. “yes, i am. i’m getting married!”

he looked at you as though you said something hilarious and you wanted to punch him in the face for it. “and yet you’re here.”

“for closure.”

he stepped towards you and you found yourself holding your breath. from this close, you can see the freckles on your cheeks, the ones you used to spend all your time trying to memorize. the curve of his plump lips and the intensity in his eyes. and when he touched, it felt like the first drop of rain after a million years of dessert. his hand perfectly fitted on your hips, warm and so achingly familiar.

his hand snaked from your hip to your legs, finger light on your skin as he ever so slightly tugged at your shorts. you need to pull away but your body needs him closer. you want him. you want him to get closer. you want him to touch you more, to feel his skin against yours. you can have every single inch of his body pressed against yours and you’d still begged to get closer.

his lips graze your cheek before it reaches your ear, even breathes in contrast to your desperately shaky ones. “is that really what you want, baby?”

with every ounce of sanity you have left, you forced yourself to nod and you can feel the way his lips formed into a mocking smile against your cheek.

“really?” he mocked. “then why are you clutching my shirt like you want more?”

you hadn’t even realized the way your fist is holding on to his shirt, pulling him closer towards you like you’re terrified he’d disappear right between your fingertips.

“fuck,” you muttered, the heat of his skin against yours dizzying. james is nowhere near your mind as your hand slips under his shirt, self control flying out the window as you feel the curves of his abs. you want him. you’ve always wanted him so desperately that you’re willing to go to hell for it. “fuck me.”

he kissed you then, fire in his lips as it finally finally touched yours. this is all you’ve ever asked for and it’s worth the damnation you’d be paying in return. you pull him impossibly closer, going on your tiptoes. you need to get closer. closer, closer, closer.

like an addicted chainsmoker to cigarettes, you can’t get enough of his kiss. you want to inhale the fumes of his breath, of him, deep into your lungs. he tugs at your shirt and you pull away enough for him to get it off.

you grunt in complaint when he pulled away from you, only to swallow it back as his lips attached to the skin of your chest, licking and nibbling as it slowly made it way down.

“oh,” you breathe out as he lips attached to your breast, your fingers tugging at his curls as his tongue circled your nipple.

you should have stopped him the moment his hand unbuttoned your shorts but as he bent you over and his hand slipped between your folds and he trapped your moans with his mouth, you were far too gone. god be damned, morality be damned. you’d crawl through hell for this.

but eventually, reality comes knocking and morning comes and your bliss ends. you woke up from your phone ringing, cocooned in daniel’s arms.

“don’t answer it,” he mutters but sleepily, you grab your phone from the nightstand, seeing james’ name on your screen.

and that snaps you out of it, being reminded of what happened the night before and what you did and you all but jumped out of his arms as though his touch burned you.

“fuck, fuck, fuck,” you mutter under your breath as you hurriedly put on your clothes, daniel watching you still naked from his place on the bed. you turned to him, “this never happened.”

you watched as anger slowly filled his eyes. “are you being serious right now?”

“i’m getting married, daniel!” you’re panicking now, screaming as your phone rings again.

“then why the fuck were you knocking on my door at two in the morning?”

you ignore him, gathering your things. “it was a mistake.”

he’s glaring at you now, looking like he wanted to start screaming. but he remains silent, only glaring as you gather your things and put on your clothes.

you look at him again, apologies and sorrow in your eyes. “i’m sorry but this isn’t me. this can’t be me.”

and then you left, not allowing yourself to look back as you ran to your car. maybe in a parallel universe or a different world, you sit next to each other at the kitchen table and go over the grocery list, but for all the universes and worlds there are, this one was not enough, not for now and not for you and daniel.

when you finally arrive home, your father is in the kitchen, eyeing you up as you walk past him. “where were you? james was looking for you.”

you grimace. there’s a knowing look in christian’s eyes as though whatever you reason he already knows will be a lie. and unfortunately, he’d be right. “i was out with friends.”

“at seven in the morning?” he narrowed his eyes and you hated his timing. of all times, did he have to question you now?

“breakfast.”

you all but run to your room before he can question you further, thanking all the gods that james isn’t there. for a moment, you stood stunned, reeling from the past twenty four hours as the guilt settles in your chest. you need to get as far away from daniel as you possibly can. you can’t be the type of woman who cheats on her fiance. you refuse to be. you refuse to break a good man’s heart like that.

and yet as you finally calm down enough to try and fix yourself, your phone buzzes, his name appearing on your screen saying he sent you a text message.

daniel i’ve loved you in every way i can. i loved you selfishly and so i tried loving you distantly, i tried loving you selflessly, i tried loving you correctly but i just want to love you now. if i could do it all over again, i would love you better but i can’t love you more than i do now.

this love came back to me

the wind is chilly as you step foot in hungary and the dress you wore is definitely not meant for it but still, you persevere, finding your way to the red bull motorhome and greeting your father. the last time you attended a grand prix was abu dhabi 2021 and yet it still feels like home.

“there’s my biggest fan!” max cheered the moment he saw you, immediately wrapping his arms around you. he hasn’t seen you for nearly a year and he missed his best friend. to be fair, no one has seen you for nearly a year, disappearing from the face of the earth after your failed engagement.

after the night of your engagement party, the guilt ate you alive as you realized that you were exactly the kind of girl you didn’t want to be and so you came clean to james. he screamed and cried and said you could work it out but you were exhausted from lying to yourself. as long as there was daniel, you can never be happy with anyone else and no man deserve to be someone you simply settled with.

you realized then that you’d lost yourself. you don’t know who you are, don’t know who you’ve become and so you left everything you know, ignoring everyone’s calls as you attempt to find yourself.

“actually, i’m supporting ferrari,” you joke once max finally lets you go.

“i’ll disown you!” your father screamed from across the garage, making you and max laugh.

“have you seen him?” max asked, whispering as though he’s telling you a secret.

you shake your head. coincidentally enough, or ironically, the first gp you attend in a while, daniel is announced to race in. and max, quite frankly, is far too excited for the two of you to see each other again. he’s had enough watching you both be stupid.

after catching up with max and the mechanics you still know, you find yourself in a cafe with your father, talking about everything and nothing at all. christian watched your every move and you can see the worry in his eyes. he’s part of the people you ran from and you know that it was a cruel thing to do to your father.

and then he was there and you’re all too familiar with the feeling of your world freezing the moment your eyes meet. he looks better, happier and you’re sure you look different too, hopefully more grown.

“you’re here,” he says, unbelieving.

you smile, genuine and free this time. “i’m here.”

and this time around, you were both tired of fighting it. it’s him. it’s always been him. there was no point denying it. he’s the only person you’ll ever want. you are totally and irrevocably in love with him – the kind of love that’s so intense it feels like an explosion of fireworks throughout your whole body. the love that leaves you sleepless but exhilarated, speechless but poetic, lost but exactly where you're meant to be.

and in that moment, your lives flashed before your eyes – marriage, children, growing old together.

daniel ricciardo is the defining moment, the collision of stars that slammed into you so hard it tore your heart in pieces and only he can put it back together again.

he smiles at you and you smile back.

hello, love, welcome home.

and finally, finally, it felt like the world isn’t burning anymore.

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uglyducklingofthe2000s · 3 months

Note

Hii please can you do something fluff like dad! Lando or daniel i don't really have anything in my mind just do it as you like please.

Where’s Mama? - Daniel Ricciardo

Short but i actually thought this was super cute

“Da, where’s mama?” Reggie asks looking up at his dad with those same honey coloured eyes that Y/n always says she’s so happy their child inherited.

“Mama is here somewhere. Is she…hiding again?” Daniel smiles knowing that y/n will often start games of hide and seek with Reggie and Reggie always needs a bit of help because the woman doesn’t go easy on him.

A competitive spirit is inherited from both parents but Reggie will also ask for help without shame which neither of them are mad about since he’s only 2.

Daniel picks Reggie up and places him up on his shoulders to carry him around the house. It doesn’t actually take them long to find her at all.

Y/n is soundly asleep curled up on her and Daniel’s bed. Presumably there wasn’t a game along hide and seek but actually Reggie woke up from his own nap and went looking for her but instead found his dad back from training.

“Mama is asleep. I think we should go out to the park and then we can come back and see her later.” Daniel states knowing that y/n is home alone with Reggie when they aren’t travelling to be there with Daniel at races.

When he’s home he tries to make sure he’s actively being a parent and taking duties off of y/n’s shoulders for a bit. He credits her entirely for them having such a perfect child, though he likes to say the laugh comes from him. Reggie and Daniel have an identical laugh.

The two leave y/n to rest. Though both manage to kiss her without waking her before they leave.

Despite managing to keep Reggie busy for maybe half an hour. Daniel ended up caving into going back home because the kid wants his mum. But Daniel can’t even be mad because actually he wants to see y/n too.

So they head back and find she’s still very much in the depth of sleep.

“Do you want to nap with mama?” Daniel asks as he holds Reggie in his arms. There’s a chance the toddler will say no.

“Yeah. Da nap too.” Reggie commands finally making Daniel feel a little wanted.

The two of them climb on the bed, Daniel placing Reggie between himself and y/n’s bodies as he finally sees her shifting and stirring from her sleep.

“What’s-“

“Shhh…Family nap time. Just go back to sleep.” Daniel soothes while she frowns for a moment before realising Reggie is already laid between them, his big brown eyes gazing at her accompanied by a toothy grin.

“Sleep mama. Nap time.” Reggie whispers moving to hug the woman before rolling so his back is pressed to her front. “Da, closer.”

So that’s how they end up all cuddled up. Sleeping all in a midday nap.

Eventually y/n and Daniel get up before Reggie is awake and since they know the kid sleeps like it’s a hobby, they don’t care about it possibly disturbing his sleep through the night.

“Mmm finally get you to myself.” Daniel grins as they walk into the kitchen.

“You had me to yourself last night…and this morning and I think both of those occasions are why i’m so tired.” Y/n laughs before squeaking when he picks her up and lands her on the counter.

“You said you wanted another baby.”

“I do. I mean we are doing an amazing job with the first. Plus I hear the second is always a little more rogue.”

“Are you sure you can handle that?” Daniel asks, slightly more softly since Y/n is left with Reggie more than he likes to admit.

“You are parent to him more than you give yourself credit. I’m not here living like a single mum to Reggie and I don’t believe you’d change that by having a second baby.” Y/n smiles as she gently cups Daniel’s face. “We can hold off if you’d rather wait. I’m just happy that we’ve started our little family.”

“Reggie might get jealous.”

“Reggie? You mean you’d have to deal with me not dividing up time and attention between only you and Reggie but another person…you know it goes both ways. I miss your attention sometimes too. I already had to compete with F1, and now our adorable son is more successful at getting your attention that I am.”

“Oh so sounds like I’ve got improvements to make.” Daniel comments leaning in to kiss her. “Well you have all my attention right now. Plus i was thinking, my parents love having Reggie. Maybe a grandparents weekend would be a nice getaway for Reg and then we get every ounce of each others time and attention. No disturbances.”

“That. Is a brilliant idea. Let’s do it.” Y/n nods kissing him again. “I hope Reggie inherits yours brains as well as your eye colour.”

“So long as he keeps everything else from you. Or maybe the next one will be a little y/n carbon copy. Even if i’m not sure this family could handle two of you.”

“I mean I am pretty amazing.”

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faithshouseofchaos · 4 months

Text

Surprise Sleepover

Pairing platonic drivers x driver!reader

Established relationship with Carlos sainz x reader

Summary after a rough race week the boys scheme to make it better by having a sleepover…

Drivers mentioned pretty much the usual suspects 👀

I have a whole mini fic saved in docs for this that I may post depends on how well this does

Your instagram

Your username name— my best friend in the whole wide world 🌎 thanks for the surprise sleepover party 🎉…

Daniel Ricciardo—— it was my pleasure little roo 🦘

Max verstappen— where’s my appreciation post?

your username— hold on max I got you 😉

Carlos sainz— your a brave man Max

Username 1— aww this is adorable I didn’t know they had sleepovers.

↪️ username 2 wait till you realize that they all grew up together 🥹

↪️username 3– they aren’t coworkers their family

Your instagram

Your username— see max I appreciate you buddy love ya brother... anyone else want a post dedicated to them???

MaxVerstappen1— this is not what I meant 💀

↪️ Landonorris— that’s unfortunate for you.

CharlesLeclerc— where did she even get that picture from??? And what other bad pictures of us does she have hidden away??

↪️ your username— no comment 👀💀

Carols sainz— I’ll be brave enough what about me??

↪️ your username— don’t worry baby I got you 😉😘

Your instagram

Your username— yes your honor he may be a fuck boy but he’s mine 😤

CarlosSainz— I expected worse honestly

↪️ your username I could never do you wrong like that 🥰

↪️ CharlesLeclerc— y/n your a simp

↪️Your username— Charles your a homie hopper👀….

Your instagram

Your instagram— tagged CharlesLeclerc,MickShcumacer,LandoNorris

You didn’t think I’d forget about y’all did you? 🤭

MickShcumacer— why drag me into this??

↪️ your username— because your basically my brother we literally grew up together I’ve spent summers at your parents house I have a bedroom there remember?

↪️MickShcumacer— oh yeah 😅

CharlesLeclerc— how did you get that picture?

↪️Your username— your dear fans sent it to me. 😘

LandoNorris— it could be worse honestly 🤷‍♂️

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discopaddock · 9 months

Text

ALL ABOUT THAT NOSE - DANIEL RICCIARDO

PAIRING: dad!daniel ricciardo x fem!mum!reader

WORDS: 1,9k+

GENRE: fluff

WARNINGS: baby's crying, max and lando being silly boys

Daniel Ricciardo was like a good wine - if he was getting older, he was looking better.

That was something that Y/N L/N knew too well. She had known Daniel since she was 16 years old.

The woman remembered too well the moment when they met. It was summer break before girl's second class in high school when the L/N family was in Perth to meet the wealthy aunt.

“Oh my, I'm so sorry” the young girl gasped, when she collided with a taller boy. She didn't know what to do. She didn't know if she was going to cry or she was just going to throw up, because she had gotten into a fight with her father, then ran away from aunt's house without phone and got lost in Perth.

“It's okay, no need to worry" was said in a cheerful voice. “I'm Daniel, by the way” a black haired boy said with a large smile on his face.

“My name is Y/N” “Then, it's a pleasure to meet you, Y/N” he spoke, making L/N cry. “Why? What? No crying! Stop crying, please!” Daniel started calming her down due to the fact he had no idea what to do. “There's no need to cry, Y/N” he told her slowly but she started to cry even worse. “What happened?” he asked finally, after getting her to sit on a bench.

“I got lost,” she answered with a tiny voice. Daniel felt sorry for the girl.

“You're not from here, are you?” the boy questioned while getting a seat next to her. “No, I'm from Canberra actually” she said, making Ricciardo raise his eyebrow.

“From Canberra? Are you related to Mrs. Elodie Fanning?”

“Um, yes. She's my aunt” she told him, trying to wipe her tears.

“Great then! I live in a house next to her! I'll walk you there, Y/N” he announced, getting up from the bench.

“Thank you” she said and the boy only smiled at her. Next he trip over shoe laces and almost fell down.

“Ow, sorry, miss Y/N” he laughed and walked her home.

And after that day, they stayed in touch. For the rest of their lives.

Y/N was his biggest fan and supporter. She supported him in his rights and wrongs.

Daniel was also her biggest supporter and fan. He was for her every time, when she got a new role in some film or theatre play, same as her - she was trying her best to be at his every race or just watch them on TV.

It was pretty hard for her, because she wasn't so wealthy, her parents neither, but when aunt Eloide heard about her relationship with Ricciardo, she gave her some money for travelling.

And they were here, in the car on their way to the hospital.

“I know you can stand it for just a moment, love,” the man said, looking at his wife, who was holding her belly, where was the cause of her pain.

“Daniel, faster, because I'm about to give birth to him in this car, for fucks sake” she said and Ricciardo only pressed the gas pedal even harder. this car.

“We're here, little frog” he announced after two minutes, and quickly got out of his newest Ferrari.

“Don't call me like that!” she screamed.

He helped his beautiful woman get out of the car, and then walked her to the reception, where the nurses gave her a wheelchair and took her to the operating room, leaving Daniel alone.

“First kid?” asked one of the nurses, while the one was helping Y/N to breathe. “Yes, my husband is freaking out,” the woman answered. “He says all the time that Otto must have had my nose, because mine looks better than his. I'm hoping that it will be true either”

The nurses laughed, and then Y/N felt another cramp. They started to appear an hour ago, and then they were systematic, appearing every two minutes.

After ten hours of painful labour, Daniel could finally meet with his exhausted wife and sleepy son.

“You did so amazing, baby,” he said to the woman, before kissing her forehead. “I couldn't be more proud of you my love” Daniel added, watching her feeding the newborn baby.

“Thanks, Dan. He's like two hours old and yet he has your Ric Energy” she said with a tiny voice, making the man laugh.

“He's a Ricciardo, isn't he?”

“He is, definitely”

“He's such a beautiful boy,” said Anna, Y/N's mother, looking at her smiling grandson.

“He's my son, of course he's beautiful,” Daniel joked, making everyone in the living room laugh.

“It's mostly because he has got my nose, not his” was said by the actress, which made Ricciardo roll his brown eyes. “Don't even do that again, Daniel. It was you who wanted him to have my nose” she added and then took a seat on her husband's lap.

First time when Y/N and Daniel had shown up at the paddock was totally different than all the previous times, even if the woman had shown there with a pregnant belly.

“Where's the kid?” was said by Lando and Max and it was the first thing that the couple heard, when they entered the Red Bull's hospitality.

“At home, he's four weeks old, what did you expect?” Daniel asked with raised eyebrows.

“We wanted to meet him! Everyone wanted it!” Max answered, making the couple laugh. “It's not our fault, that you don't want anyone in your house since he was born”

“And that's why none of you is his godfather” Ricciardo said, making his friends go away.

“Don't talk to us ever again!” was screamed by Lando, which made Y/N laugh. “It's about you too, Y/N!” Max added.

“I love them,” the woman started, when they took seats on the couch in Daniel's room. “but they are more like our kids. I wouldn't let none of them to be Otto's godfather” “Me either, love”

“So who is the godfather?” Verstappen asked, while his and Norris' heads were sticking out of the door.

“Timothée” Dan said shortly and after that both drivers entered the room. “What?!” Lando and Max were shocked.

“What what? He's a nice guy after all, not like you two” Dan joked. He was laughing at his friends. They were cute actually.

“What about godmother? Who is she?”

“Oh, we don't know yet” Mrs. Ricciardo said, shrugging. “We'll tell you both, when we find an ideal person, don't worry” she announced and sent them kisses, which also did Daniel. “Now bye bye, you both are needed. Bye!” Ricciardo led them out the door and again sat near to his wife. In next three hours he gave an interview, that melted everyone's heart.

“Thank you, Y/N, for these amazing fifteen years that you spent with me. Thank you for your support and that you had never despaired in me. And then thank you for our son, who you just gave birth to a month ago, I couldn't be more proud of anyone in this world than you. I also wanted to thank you for saying yes to me twelve years ago. I loved you then, I love you right now, and I will love until my death. Thank you for everything” Daniel ended his monologue and started looking for his beloved wife, who was crying because of his words.

“I love you endlessly, Dan,” she whispered, when they hugged. “And I love you, dolly” he replied with his biggest and prettiest smile on face. “You're crying again” he laughed, starting wiping the tears. “Just like on the first day, right?” she joked. “Yep, just like then” he said, kissing her nose after. “I want to see all of these photos that they took. We should have one of them at home” the woman said quietly to his ear, making his smile even bigger. “Yes, we definitely should”

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f1 “(...) I loved you then, I love you right now, and I will love until my death. Thank you for everything”

That's just a short piece of @ danielricciardo's monologue. Watch it all on formula1.com.

4517 comments

charles_leclerc My favourite couple on the grid!❤️

↑ charles_lecat omg charles this is soo cute!!!!

yourusername and i love him endlessly since i was sixteen and i will love him till death do us part.

↑ danielricciardo 🥲❤️

↑ danandyn @yourusermane ur both were made for each other 🥺🥺🥺

lewishamilton and I still remember this little danny who was asking everybody on the paddock if they had met his beautiful girlfriend in 2011

↑ f1wags NO WAY HE DID THAT

↑ dr3love omg hes too much😭😭😭

tchalamet my beloved parents idc

↑ tchalametdaily WELL HELLO THERE T

↑ liochalamet cant believe ur commenting on f1 post timo

landonorris I LOVE THEM WITH MY WHOLE HEART 💓 💓💓

↑ carlossainz55 Honestly same Lando😊

maxverstappen1 My favourite couple in the world, both deserve all the best ❤️‍🩹

↑ ilovef1 one time max speaking facts

sebastianvettel Ahh my favourite people, deserve the best!💝

First time the Ricciardo family showed up at the paddock was during the Austin Grand Prix. Of course Daniel was dressed as a cowboy. He just loved that GP.

Even though he wasn't participating that year.

Otto was looking everywhere from his stroller. He was looking at his papa, who was wearing a big, unknown hat and smiling.

Little guy was only three months old and was not ready yet to see his father dressed like that, so he started to cry.

“No, no, no, sweetie, no crying” Y/N started, pulling her son from the stroller. She hugged him and told her husband to take off his cowboy hat. “You will dress as a cowboy for Halloween instead” she announced cradling the baby in her arms.

Otto finally stopped crying, when all of them went to Daniel's room and Y/N fed him.

“We will stay here, okay Dan?” she asked, looking at the man, who was singing his son lullaby, so he could fall asleep easier. “Everything for him” he whispered, putting the sleeping boy to his stroller. “Give me a kiss” he said walking to his wife. She stood up and when he was In Front of her, she placed a kiss on his lips. “I'm so lucky that I have you. If I didn't meet you, I wouldn't be me” he announced holding her in a thigh hug.

“I'm hearing Lando's coming” she said after a while, hearing Brit's footsteps. And yeah, she was so right, because like thirty seconds later a curly haired guy entered the room. He had rosy cheeks and a huge smile on his face.

“There's my favourite boy! And his parents” he said and hugged Y/N. “It's amazing to see you. You look so good and healthy, oh my!” Lando announced, making the woman blush because of the hormones. “And you look the same as last week” he said to Daniel, who only rolled his eyes.

He finally stepped in front of the boy and started to cry.

“He- Oh- He's so pretty” Lando said with his shaky voice and tears on his face. “I can't believe that Daniel is one of the creators of this miracle,” Norris said. “The little one is too perfect”

“Oh, Landon, don't cry” Y/N hugged the younger one and rubbed his back. “We know that he is the prettiest baby on the globe, we do. It's because he has my nose, not Daniel's”

“Hey!” Ricciardo delicately slapped his wife's back.

It was always about the nose.

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danielricciardo 3 months of having you on the world little one. 3 best months of my life❤️

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sbdskate · 2 months

Text

Pencils Down (18+) - Daniel Ricciardo x lawyer!fem!reader

Pairing: Daniel Ricciardo x fem!lawyer!reader

Summary: At the end of the 2022 F1 season, Daniel Ricciardo finalizes his legal affairs by signing as a reserve driver with Red Bull. The tempting young associate who’s handled the negotiations is no longer off limits.

Warnings (18+): language, *smut (!!!), dry humping, oral (f receiving), fingering, NSFW

Word Count: 2,957

A/N: Surprise! This is an alternate Laws Of Attraction scene that I turned into a one shot. Initially, I had written the hook up to happen immediately after the contract signing, but realized it disrupted the flow of the story. That being said, I still want it to see the light of day. If you're new here: (1) welcome! (2) if you liked it and want the full story, you can find it here. Again, new to smut writing so feedback is always welcome and appreciated. Thank you!

Daniel Ricciardo had finally signed with Red Bull as a reserve driver. After a tumultuous 2022 season filled with lots of lows, you had been the one shiny bright spot as he navigated what his future might look like in the sport. Everybody seemed to have an opinion and something to say, though rarely to his face – how many times had he read in the press that he was “washed up” or that “his career is over” if he didn’t get a primary seat on the grid. But you’d listened to him and supported him as you traversed the fallout with McLaren’s termination and braved negotiations with other teams. Granted, as his lawyer it was your job to act as his fiduciary so he shouldn’t have read as much into it as he did. But from Belgium to Abu Dhabi, he shared his hopes and dreams with you for now and for the future and you received his words with care and without judgment.

Stress, despair, and proximity created the ultimate concoction that laminated the bond between attorney and client. The more time you spent together, the more you learned about each other, and the harder it was to keep personal feelings from muddling the professional relationship. He watched as you navigated worlds surrounded by men, both in Daniel’s field and yours, and he admired your wit, intellect and steadfast determination in the face of being constantly undermined and underestimated. And you, ever the skeptic and cautious to a fault, couldn’t help but succumb to the charm of the handsome driver even when he was at his worst.

Which brought you to the hallway of Red Bull hospitality, the ink from his signature still wet on the new contract for the 2023 season. The other lawyers and representatives had cleared out, leaving the two of you to contemplate whether the little touches and prolonged glances over the last three months were more than they seemed.

“So that’s it?”

“Yeah.”

“Pencils down.”

“Yep.”

“I’m not your client anymore.”

“Correct, I no longer represent you.”

“Now what?”

The irony of the situation was not lost on either of you. After months of buildup and counting down the seconds until the end of your attorney-client representation, you were stuck in a country that criminalized PDA and the cohabitation of unmarried couples. He was scheduled to go back to Perth and you back to the New York office of your law firm tomorrow. You hadn’t allowed your daydreams to get this far and you were stumped.

“I don’t know.” The universe was cruel and unforgiving. You checked your surroundings and bit your lip in frustration.

“Follow me,” he whispered. “I know a place.”

You followed the driver a pace or two behind in silence as you tracked the maze of Red Bull hospitality, cutting through the kitchen, hallways and corridors, until you reached Max’s driver’s room. He closed the door and locked it behind you. He grabbed your hands.

“Tell me you don’t want this. And I’ll leave you alone. You’ll never have to see me again.” His voice was low and gruff, in a way you had never heard before. He squeezed your hands, eyes pleading, trying to convey more than he could put into words in the moment.

You shook your head in disbelief that somehow that was the conclusion he had come to. You cupped his face with your hand, thumb rubbing along his stubbled jaw line. Your voice was soft, barely able to get the words out.

“I want this. I want you. Please.”

You didn’t have to say it twice. His lips crashed into yours in a passionate kiss that almost knocked you off your feet. Months of pent-up sexual tension and mutual curiosity were released in an instant. Your hands roamed each other’s bodies, too many places to explore to stay in one place. Your hands finally found a home in his soft, beautiful curls while his hand firmly held the base of your neck. His other hand rubbed circles around your lower back, cautiously moving downwards. You smiled into the kiss and moved his hand to your bottom, granting permission to proceed.

Having the green light, he moved his other hand down to grab a handful of your ass and picked you up. Instinctively, you wrapped your legs around him as he pushed you up against the wall. The hem of your pencil skirt scrunched up at your waist. The thin fabric of your underwear and the bulge of his pants caused friction against your sensitive clit, and you wiggled your hips to get more from the sensation. You kissed him back with ferocity in an attempt to stifle the moans you desperately wanted to scream out, especially as you felt him harden from the contact. You pouted when he pulled away, only for his lips to land on the sensitive spot on your neck. You threw your head back and closed your eyes, unfortunately with too much gusto causing a loud *thud* when your head hit the wall. He immediately stopped.

“Are you ok?” His concern was immediately replaced by giggles when he saw you laughing. “Shhhh we still need to be quiet.”

“I know, I know,” you said between fits of laughter. “It’s just – are we crazy? We’re in a glorified closet with paper thin walls.” You paused, your laughter slowing. “Maybe this isn’t a good idea,” you said with a sympathetic smile. He gave you a chaste kiss.

“If it were up to me,” Your eyes rolled back as his lips met the column of your neck again. “I’d wine and dine you so hard,” *peck* “maybe somewhere in Monaco,” *peck* “and then take you home and fuck you on the balcony.” You were practically drooling by the time he pulled away to look at you. “This is nowhere close to being good enough for what you deserve. We can stop whenever you want.”

You looked at him, dazed. His warm chestnut brown eyes were so earnest, but it was hard to keep your head straight with him still firmly pressed against you. You absentmindedly wiggled again but he steadied your hips with his fingers. He pressed his forehead to yours.

“I need you to use your words. Do you want to stop?” You frowned.

“No,” you paused. “But I don’t know if I want to continue here.”

“There’s always tonight.” Skeptical, you raised an eyebrow.

“Go on?”

“Well, I can come to your room once all the festivities are over and everyone goes to bed. If you’ll have me, of course.” You swooned.

“Don’t be ridiculous, I already told you I want you. It’s risky though, no?”

“I mean yeah, a little. But …” he grabbed your wrists and pinned them besides your head. “…trying not to get caught is half the fun.” His hot breath tickled your face. All sense of logic and reason went out the window. As a lawyer, this whole situation went against your very nature of rule following.

“Oh,” was all you could croak out.

“Can I do something for you before we go outside?”

“Please,” you begged, eliciting a wicked smirk from him. It dawned on you that he enjoyed seeing you frazzled. But you enjoyed it too. Considering how intense your job was, the mental reprieve was just as thrilling as his touch.

Peeling you from the wall, he continued to hold you until he sat down on the massage table so that you were straddling him. Free from you prior constraints, you rolled your hips over his hardened bulge as you made out. His hands moved from your ass to unbutton your shirt partially, just enough to expose your breasts. He moved a hand to cup one, gently rolling a thumb over your unlined bra where your nipple lay beneath. He separated from the kiss to make his way south, not missing the opportunity to take you in.

“Holy shit,” he breathed. He remembered when you burst into his own room just a few weeks ago to apologize for abandoning him in Austin. Flushed rosy cheeks, messy hair, clothes disheveled, panting - as you were now. He loved how easily he could make you come undone and that only he could ever see you this way. He raised his hips to meet yours when his mouth finally landed on your neck again. You leaned forward and gently bit his shoulder to suppress the noises that threatened to spill from your lips as you bucked your hips. Not trusting your ability to stay quiet, you began leaving a trail of kisses starting at his jaw and down his neck. He stopped you part way down his chest when he realized what you were doing, grabbing your hips roughly. You looked up at him innocently.

“What’s wrong?”

“Don’t.”

“I want to make you feel good.”

“You already make me feel good. This is about you.” He hoisted you back up on his lap, positioning so he could pick you up again. You let out a small yelp at the sudden movement, only for him to place you back down on the massage table. He leaned down to give you a kiss on your forehead before spreading your legs and kneeling in front of you. If you weren’t blushing before, your face was now beet-red. His hands lightly caressed the length of your leg, starting at your ankles and slowly making their way up your thighs. Your toes curled in your heels in anticipation.

You took a sharp inhale as he leaned in to leave a trail kisses up your inner thigh. You held your breath when he stopped at your panty-line, his hands playing with the sides of your thong. He looked up at you intently.

“Do you want me to keep going?” Eyes wide, you aggressively nodded and he chuckled at your eagerness. He drew little patterns over and around you, but purposefully just shy of your clit. You bit your bottom lip in frustration, the teasing becoming unbearable. He lightly dragged a finger over the center of your underwear, feeling your wetness through the fabric. As cool, calm, and collected as he looked to you, he too was quite literally bursting at the seams. His hardened cock strained against his pants seeking release. He wished he could fuck you right then and there, but understood the obvious risks you so pointedly observed.

Your legs trembled as he slowly pulled the fabric down. You wanted to scream feeling his hot breath over your entrance. You slapped a hand over your mouth when he closed the gap. He drew little circles around your bundle of nerves with his tongue before he switched to flicking. Your free hand found its way to his curls again, grasping for anything to keep you grounded as you felt like you would float away. Looking up from between your thighs, he saw the rise and fall of your chest and your bra peeking through your shirt. He unwrapped an arm to bring a finger to your folds, pausing to gauge your reaction.

You subconsciously bucked your hips, desperate for more contact. Accepting the sign, he inserted a finger, then two as he continued to lap at your clit. You arched your back in response to the dual sensations, doing your best to focus on your breathing. You wanted to shout his name to the world, to let everyone know that he was yours and you were his. Every obscenity known to man was on the tip of your tongue, but you held it in. His hands and mouth fell into a comfortable rhythm as your hand found a place in his hair again, running fingers through soft ringlets. Your core tensed, pressure pooling in your lower abdomen. He sensed you were close as you subconsciously squeezed your thighs around his head, encouraging him to keep going. He wished he could stay there forever. He looked up again a few moments later to see your eyes squeezed shut and your whole body convulsing around him as you reached your climax. He’d never seen a more beautiful sight.

You melted into the table as you came down from your high. You gave him a small pat on the head to indicate that you had finished, though your limp body was evidence enough to him. He smiled as he pulled away, giving a small kiss on your inner thigh before sucking his fingers that had been inside you moments ago. You lazily glanced at him slack-jawed. You still weren’t sure whether this was all just a fever dream. He began to wipe his mouth but you grabbed his shirt to stop him.

“No,” you mumbled. You haphazardly pulled on the shirt in your hands to encourage him to meet your lips and he happily obliged. “I want to taste myself,” you said under your breath just as the gap closed.

He wasn’t exactly sure what he had done to deserve such praise but was thankful nonetheless. You felt another wave of pleasure pulse through you as you tasted your own salty essence on your tongue. You began palming him over his pants, moving to unbuckle his belt when he stopped you. Sometimes he even surprised himself with the amount of self-control he had. But he knew it was only because if things progressed, the little he had left would dissolve into oblivion. He would happily go to jail for you, but he was not worried about getting caught himself. The repercussions for you would be detrimental in more ways than one and he wasn’t sure his celebrity would be enough to shelter you from reprimand.

“Nooooo,” you whined as he peeled your hand from his crotch. He gave it a kiss before returning it to your side.

“Not here. Later, I promise.” His cock was pulsating, he tried to think of the Bills, Zak Brown, or literally anything else to take his mind away from the vision in front of him. You moved your hand down to play with yourself, but he grabbed it again. Your lower lip jutted, and you spread your legs wider for him. He was pretty sure he would give you almost anything you asked for with the eyes you gave him. Almost.

“Why?”

“Because we’ll get caught.”

“If I go to jail, I go to jail.” He laughed.

“That’s not what you said earlier. Plus -” he gave you a peck on the cheek. “I can’t fuck you if you’re in jail.” He had a point. You closed your legs, finally conceding.

“Fine. But I’m not happy about it.” Taking your hand again, he helped you to your feet. He knelt before you to pull your panties up, unnecessarily taking his time. He didn’t miss the opportunity to kiss your hips and gave your butt a light tap to close out the encounter. He straightened your skirt, taking care to smooth out as many wrinkles as he could. You bit your bottom lip, your heart felt so full with how delicately he handled you but you also ached for him to rip off the clothes he just took great care putting on.

“You’re being awfully needy.” He continued to dress you as you complained, buttoning your shirt back up.

“What can I say? I’m a strong, independent, needy woman.” He bit back his laugh. He didn’t need you to know this hurt him as much as it pained you.

You pulled him in for a kiss again, though it only lasted a second before he practically pushed you away. You frowned and were about to ask his what was wrong, but looked down and quickly realized his conundrum. You were reminded of one of the few benefits of being a woman: the ability to hide arousal in public.

“Oh – oh shit. I can help…?” You gently touched his chest and began kneeling but he placed your hand back at your side and encouraged you to stand upright.

“Nope. No. I just have to… think of something else for a bit.” You looked at him intently but he was very focused on the ceiling. You didn’t want to make him feel bad, so you pursed your lips together to hold back your laughter.

“Ok. Well, um, I’ll see you later then.” He shut his eyes hard when you went to give him a kiss on the cheek. “Oh fuck, I’m sorry,” you said again, realizing you were not helping the situation. “I’m just - going to go.” You turned around and bent over to pick up your work bag, which incidentally prominently displayed the curves of your rear.

“Oh my God, please just get out.” You immediately stood up straight to find him covering his eyes with his hands.

“I know, I’m sorry!” You walked backwards to the door to avoid any further accidental temptation. “This was fun, I’ll see you later,” you said with a giant smile.

Not removing one of the hands from his face, he waved with the other one. “Just be careful on your way out. But please, for the sake of both of us, you need to leave,” he said with a smile.

“I know, I know, I’m leaving. Byeeee,” you whispered as you shut the door.

You quickly checked your surroundings and made a b-line for the bathroom where you finally had a moment to process what just happened. You looked at your reflection. Your heartbeat had finally returned to normal, but your cheeks were still a little flushed from the encounter. Otherwise, you pulled your slightly tangled hair back in a bun – no one would be none the wiser.

You didn’t look much different, but your sense of reality had been permanently altered.

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