#danny ricciardo

[thef155]

I see everyone trying to figure out how Carlos’s appendicitis fits into the Alex’s Appendix Domino Effect lore.

To me it seems obvious:

Alex gets appendicitis, will miss Monza ‘22

Nyck de Vries fills in for Alex and impresses

AlphaTauri sign Nyck for 2023

AlphaTauri drop Nyck mid-2023 and pick up Danny Ric

Danny Ric breaks wrist, will miss some races

Liam Lawson fills in for Danny Ric

Liam Lawson edges Max Verstappen out of Q3 at Singapore ‘23, allowing for competition at the front

“CARLOS SAINZ, WINNER OF THE SINGAPORE GRAND PRIX”

As blood payment for the only non-Red Bull race win of the 2023 season, Carlos must surrender his own appendix

The Great Balance is finally restored in the universe

Max Verstappen gets 24 wins and 24 poles in 2024

This is the way of things.

#carlos sainz #carlos sainz jr #alex albon #Liam Lawson #Danny Ricciardo #max Verstappen #f1 memes

[scuderiahoney]

Blackbird

Daniel Ricciardo x reader

Masterlist

Summary: You’re a bartender at a mountain lodge. When Danny shows up, you’re determined to keep your distance. It doesn’t really go to plan.

a/n: definitely inspired by this moodboard I made for the lovely @shootingstar-scuderia for my 1k celebration!

Word Count: 10.1k

Warnings: alcohol, mild sexual content

People come and go at the lodge, but they don’t stay for long. That is, except for you and your coworkers. They’re the only consistent people in your life. The customers, the guests- they pass through like ships in the night. They tell their stories, share their adventures, and then move on. It’s half the fun, really.

You should’ve known he’d be different from the very start. Most of them come in, sit down at the bar, and are eager to tell you all about themselves. They want to impress you, want to prove that they’re the biggest adventurer in the whole place. And sure, the road to the lodge is rough and steep and half the time it’s washed out. But most of them arrive in vehicles driven by guides, and they tote their expensive luggage through the lobby, decked out in brand new hiking gear bought special for this trip. When he shows up at the bar, he’s in a threadbare t-shirt, a pair of loose shorts, and a worn down pair of hiking boots.

He’s flanked by friends, ones who have genuine smiles on their faces and are dressed much the same. He seems to be the ringleader. The first thing you really notice about him are the tattoos scattered up and down his arms. He rests his elbows on the bar, looks utterly at home there. You wander down to take their order.

“I’ll have whatever beer you’d recommend,” he says, Australian accent shining through.

You get a lot of people with accents in the bar. They come from all over. You’re not surprised at the accent, though you might’ve guessed he was American from looking at him. You nod and pour him a glass of your current favorite before taking his friend’s orders and doing the same. He takes a sip and sends you a wide grin, one that seems genuine. People smile at you a lot, trying to get a discount on their drinks or look good in front of their friends or sometimes, more than that. But this just seems… real. Like he always smiles that brightly.

“That’s good,” he says, nodding eagerly. “A woman after my own tastes.”

You laugh and nod. “You’ve got good taste, then.”

He preens over that, runs his hand through his hair. Then he sticks the other one out to you, over the bar. “I’m Danny.”

You shake his hand, the way you do each time someone introduces themself to you. You try and commit his name to memory, because he’ll likely be back a few times before he leaves the lodge and they always tip better if you remember their names. He repeats your name back to you, like it’s not written plain as day in your nametag, like he actually cares.

He tilts his head towards you. “So. How’d you end up here?” He asks.

You raise a brow at him. “Normally I’m the one asking that question.”

He laughs. He folds his hands on each other and rests his chin on them.

“Exactly. You must hear about a billion of the same stories, rich people on their vacations, roughing it in the woods,” he laments. “So come on. What’s your story?”

You’re not sure why you tell him. Looking back, in the interest of self preservation, you probably should’ve lied. But at this angle, he’s staring up at you through thick, dark eyelashes. He has the prettiest smile you’ve seen in months, maybe years, maybe ever. So you look down the bar, make sure nobody’s waiting on you. Danny and his friends are early, so you don’t have much to worry about.

You shrug. “Graduated high school. Decided college wasn’t for me.” You pick up a rag, rub at a spot on the bar just to look busy, just to avoid looking right into his eyes. “I’ve been on the move ever since. I landed here about a year ago- cheap room and board, good tips, and,” you jerk your thumb towards the large picture windows looking out over the valley and mountains. “The view’s not so bad.”

Danny laughs at that, and his gaze flickers to the windows. The sun is just barely beginning to set. Soon the tourists will pour into the bar and restaurant, hungry and thirsty from their days full of adventures. But right now it’s quiet. The calm before the storm.

“Nice,” he says. “Bet you’ve got a lot of cool stories.”

You shrug, though you smile a bit at the thought. “Yeah. Hasn’t been a bad life, you know?”

He nods. Someone sits down at the bar, and you head down to take their order. Soon enough, you’re too busy to stop and chat with Danny, having to limit it to quick drink requests and offhanded remarks. You swear you feel his eyes on your the whole night. He closes out the tab a little before 9:00, pays for everyone and leaves a big tip. For a second, you remember that he’s probably just some big wig exec from some tech company, cosplaying as an outdoorsy man for the weekend. And that’s fine, you’ll support it as long as he’s nice to you.

He tosses a grin over his shoulder as he leaves, and sends a little wave your way. You swear he winks. And really, it was that moment that you should’ve known that Danny was going to be a problem for you.

…..

The employee cabins are in a secluded spot on the property, but you prefer to have your morning coffee on the back porch of the main lodge. It’s got the best view, the coffee is free, and at this hour, there’s nobody else up. Nobody, that is, except the man from the bar the night before. Danny, you remember. Huh. Usually it takes longer for the name to stick.

You watch over the edge of your book as he comes jogging up the path. He’s shirtless, skin glistening with sweat. It’s early morning, the sun barely poking up over the horizon, and it’s not that warm yet. Either he’s been working hard or he’s out of shape. From the glimpse you catch, you decide he’s definitely not out of shape. You force your eyes back to the book as he makes his way towards you. You won’t be caught staring at the shirtless guest. That would be a bad idea.

Said shirtless guest walks right up to you, though, and sticks his finger into the spine of the book, tugging it downward. You quirk a brow and look up at him. The audacity to interrupt your reading- you’re not sure how to even react. Your face betrays you as a smile crosses your lips.

“Good book?” He asks, nudging the cover.

You shrug. “It’s okay. I’ve read almost everything good in the library here.”

Danny wrinkles his nose. “You said you didn’t like… you know. Academic stuff.”

“I said college wasn’t for me,” you clarify. “I like reading.”

He nods in understanding, that signature smile on his lips. “So what’s this one about?”

You blink up at him. “Dragons.”

“Sounds fun.” He looks to your cup of coffee, sitting on the table in front of you. “S’the coffee any good?”

You nod. He takes a couple steps towards the building. “Can I sit with you? None of my friends are up yet.”

“Well it is 6am, and you’re on vacation. Can’t say I blame them.” You say, dancing around the question.

It’s not that you don’t want to talk to him. In fact, you have a strong urge to lean close and learn everything about this man. But he’s a guest and you’re an employee. They encourage you to be friendly with the guests- it helps them feel at home, your manager says- but not too friendly. Besides, Danny will be gone in a few days, and he’ll forget all about you the week after. It’s how it goes.

But he turns and raises his brows at you, and you sigh and nod. “Yeah, you can join me. But I want to read, so…”

“I’ll be so quiet,” Danny promises.

He scurries off to get coffee. You let out a long breath and pick the book back up. You’re definitely going to regret this decision. Danny doesn’t seem like the quiet type.

In his defense, he manages to stay quiet for about ten minutes. He sits down in one of the chairs next to yours, leaning back and sipping his coffee. From the angle, you can peek up over the edge of your book and sneak glances at him. He has his eyes closed, or at least close to it. He’s still shirtless, though you can see the t-shirt he must’ve been wearing hanging from the waistband of his shorts. You’re not looking at him, really- just trying to tell if he’s looking at you.

Then he starts to fidget. First he crosses his legs, then uncrosses them. He stretches his arms above his head, fingertips spread wide. Then he slouches in his chair and lets out a heavy sigh. You meet his eyes over the top of your book.

He raises his eyebrows. “What are you doing up so early, anyways?”

You should be irritated. This is your quiet morning- he’s interrupting your personal time. You come out here to drink coffee and read and listen to the birds, not some rich man trying to talk your ear off. But. He’s so genuine about it. Like he actually wants to know. Be friendly to the guests, you think.

“I’m a morning person,” you tell him, resting your book on your lap. “And I love it here before everyone wakes up for the day, you know? Like it’s just me and the world.”

He nods in understanding. He props one foot up on the chair, bends his knee close to his chest. His shorts slide up to reveal a whole mess of tattoos on his thigh. You tell yourself not to stare.

“That’s how coming here feels for me,” he says, softly. “Nice to be away from people for a bit.”

You’re starting to wonder if maybe he’s different.

“Like a breath of fresh air,” you suggest. “But for your mind and heart, too.” You pause and roll your eyes at yourself. “Sorry, that’s a bit hippy of me to say, but-“

“No, I agree,” he says, softly.

Someone opens the door to the lodge and calls out his name. You swear his face drops. He turns over his shoulder and nods, and then pushes himself to stand up.

“Well. See ya ‘round,” he says, voice soft.

You nod and pick up your book again. “See ya.”

…..

You get to know him, bit by dangerously intriguing bit. He works for Red Bull, apparently. Doesn’t give many details past that, so you assume it’s boring. He does know Scotty James-

“There was a guy who came here last winter, a snowboarder, he had a Red Bull helmet-“ you say, snapping your fingers. “Scotty something, wasn’t it, Will?”

Will, your coworker, is cleaning glasses at the bar. He raises his brows at you, and his gaze flickers to Danny, and then he says “Scotty James.”

You nod and turn back to Danny. “You know him?”

Danny laughs. “I was in his wedding.”

Danny also has a ranch in Australia where he rides dirt bikes in what he refers to as the ‘off season’, whatever that’s supposed to mean. He shows you a video, and honestly, you’re not one for adrenaline but it looks pretty fun. You suggest they talk to your boss about taking the ATVs out on the trails, and he perks up at the sound of that.

Danny tells you about his family, too. About his parents, his sister, his nephew and niece.

“M’trying to teach them good music,” he tells you on the back porch one morning. “None of that little kid shit.”

You laugh. “None of the educational shit, you mean.”

“Music’s not for your brain,” he scoffs. “It’s for your soul.”

“There’s at least 100 scientists who would definitely disagree,” you tease.

You agree with him more than you’ll ever let on.

When he walks into the bar one evening and you have his drink already waiting for him, you start to wonder if you’ve grown a bit too attached.

…..

Your boss, Michael, calls you up to the main lodge early the next day. He’s bent over the front desk, crossing off names and writing new ones down. He looks up at you with wide eyes, brows furrowed.

“Hey. I know you’re not up on the rotation yet, but d’you think you could cover an overnight camping trip?” He asks. “Sadie’s out sick, and Billy’s got a family emergency.”

Though your main job is in the bar, all of the staff take turns taking guests on overnight trips in the mountains near the lodge. You hike out with them, help set up all the gear, start the fire, and then help pack up the next morning and hike back. Depending on the group, it can be fun. When they’re not too high maintenance, you can sit around the fire and tell fun stories and get paid to do it. Other trips, you end up setting up all the tents and doing all the work and then you get ignored for most of the night.

“It’d be you and Will,” your boss adds.

Will’s one of your favorite coworkers. The two of you get along great. Michael knows this, and you wonder for a moment if he’s already talked to Will, or if you’ll be a bribe to get him to agree, too. You lean over the counter and sigh.

“Are they gonna be annoying?” You ask. “Like. Are they the type who’re wearing the brand new gear, or no gear at all, or are they somewhat okay?”

He juts his chin towards the back porch, and you follow his gaze. Danny’s out there, throwing a football back and forth with one of his buddies. You quirk a brow and turn back to Michael.

“He didn’t ask for me, did he?” You ask quietly.

Michael’s brows furrow. “No. Is he making you uncomfortable? You know you can tell me-“

“No,” you insist, shaking your head. “He’s nice. Just, you know, checking.”

Michael nods. “So? What d’you say? You’d leave tomorrow, come back the next morning. Quick out and back.”

You shrug and nod. “Got nothing better to do.”

The guys are missing from the bar that night. You see them come in later, arms around each other, probably just back from some sort of expedition. One of them- Blake, you think his name is- is trying to corral all of them, reminding them of their big hike the next day. They disappear into the elevator. Just before the door closes, Danny looks straight at you and gives you a wide grin.

When you meet them in the lobby the next morning, his grin stretches even wider.

“No way,” he says, eyeing your hiking backpack and the boots on your feet. “Not only are you the best bartender, you also do guided hikes?”

You nod and smile. “Only one at a time, though. Unfortunately I’m not very good at making drinks in the backcountry.”

Danny shrugs. “We’ll survive.”

You clap your hands and look around at the group. “Alright, campers, you ready to hike?”

They all nod and chime in with various agreements, so you pick up your bags and head for the doors. Danny falls into step next to you near the front, while Will takes up the back of the pack. You run through your usual spiel that you do when you lead a hike, and then you’re off.

It’s peaceful for a few minutes. Like the guys are all trying to act like good naturalists, like they’re trying to soak it all in. And then Danny trips over a rock, and someone teases him for it, and it’s all downhill from there. It’s entertaining, really- the way they pick on each other. You can tell they’re genuinely friends.

You take a break for lunch at a perfect spot overlooking a valley. Danny whistles lowly when he sees the view, and he elbows you lightly.

“You take all the guys to this spot?” He jokes, wiggling his brows at you.

You roll your eyes and elbow him back. “Just the ones who are stupid enough to follow me deep into the woods.”

That earns you a full bellied laugh, one that makes his eyes crinkle at the edges. You’re struck again by how genuine he is, how his walls are down or maybe even nonexistent. It makes your chest ache.

You eat lunch together, and you point out the mountains by name from the little overlook. They’re all great at playing along. They ask how the peaks got their names, which one is your favorite, if you’ve ever made it to the top of any of them.

“That one,” you say, pointing at one of the smaller peaks. “Mount Mirlo.”

“Mirlo?” Danny asks, testing out the word.

You nod. “I think it means… blackbird? Yeah. In Spanish.” You nod your head towards the mountain. “Anyways. They drag everyone up there the week they first get hired. It’s a hazing thing.”

“It’s not hazing if it’s fun,” Will chimes in, and Danny laughs. “Admit it. You had a good time.”

“I got bit by so many mosquitos and very sunburned,” you deadpan. Then you grin. “But yeah, it was sick.”

You set back off on the hike after lunch. Eventually, you come to a log bridge over a river. Danny peers over the edge as you wait on the other side, brows raised. There’s a little spot where the water pools there.

“Looks like a good spot to jump in.”

You laugh and wrinkle your nose. “That river is absolutely frigid. It’d be like an ice bath.”

He shrugs and grins at you. “Just saying.”

The camping spot isn’t far from the bridge. Once you arrive, you begin to unpack the tents to get them set up, while Will starts getting things ready for the fire. You unroll the tents, lay out the poles, and then-

Danny’s next to you, hands on his hips. “How can we help?”

You blink up at him from where you’re crouched near the ground. “Oh, you don’t have to… usually we do the set up.”

He scoffs and shakes his head. “We came here to go camping,” he says. “Tell me what to do.”

They all get started setting up the tents, and you’re amazed at how much quicker things go when there are more people actually doing work. The camp is set up in record time, and someone helps Will gather firewood. Danny insists on helping to make dinner, too, and soon everyone’s sitting around the warm fire and eating happily.

“No food in the tents,” you warn, looking around the group at all of them. “It goes in the bear box. You don’t want a bear to come looking for breakfast in your tent.”

Danny nods in agreement with wide eyes. As everyone finishes dinner, they start chatting. You sit down on the dirt and stretch out backwards, staring up at the purple hues sky. The sun is setting, and when you lay down fully on the ground, your back aches. Danny, who’s sitting next to you, lays down too and lets out a long groan. You laugh.

There’s something about the proximity that has your heart racing. His hand is next to your on the ground. If you reached out just a little you could touch his warm skin. Nobody would even notice.

A bird lands in the tree. You pull your hand away to point at it instead.

“Blackbird,” you say, and Danny nods.

“Mirlo, right?” He says. You nod in response.

The bird starts singing. You mimic the sound by whistling, albeit not very well. You drop your hand back to the ground next to you as you do, and Danny laughs affectionately, attempting to whistle too. You swear you feel his pinky touch yours, and your whistling falters.

Will pulls out the marshmallows soon after. Everyone gets excited over that. You all wander around to find good sticks to roast them with, and then meet back at the fire. You watch in absolute horror as Danny takes his marshmallow and sticks it directly into the flames. It lights on fire mere seconds later, and by the time he pulls it out with a panicked noise and blows on it frantically, it’s charred and black. He gives you a sheepish look. You sigh.

“You’re so bad at this,” you say, shaking your head.

He nods in agreement. “Always have been.”

His friends try to give him instructions, but it’s no use. By the time he’s on his third burnt marshmallow, everyone else is on their second s’more. You take pity on him- before he can char another one, you take the stick from him and roast it for him. You stare in concentration, finding just the right spot and turning it carefully until it’s roasted perfectly golden brown. Will helps you assemble the s’more, and you hand it to Danny with a soft smile.

“Here,” you say, quietly.

He takes a bite, then lets out a soft moan that has you heating up in a way you shouldn’t be. “That’s amazing,” he says. There’s melted chocolate stuck to the corner of his mouth, and your fingers itch to wipe it away for him. “I crown you queen of s’mores.”

You curtsy, nodding your head at him. He laughs and nearly drops the treat. You spot the issue before he does, and your fingers bump clumsily against his as you try to assist him. His hands are warm, and probably sticky from the marshmallows. You don’t let your touch linger long enough to find out.

Eventually, everyone heads off to bed one by one. Will gives you a questioning look when it’s just the two of you and Danny left up. One of the guides always stays up until all the guests go to bed- it’s a safety thing. You nod to Will, and he stands and stretches and heads for bed. The two of you are sitting on a sideways log next to the fire, and once Will goes into his tent, it’s just the two of you, the flames, and the dark expanse of night.

“Spooky,” Danny says quietly.

You nod. “You get used to it, after a while. The dark gets a little less scary. The quiet, too. When I first got here, the quiet was so…”

“Loud?” He says.

You laugh, but he’s right. “Yeah. Loud.”

He nods in understanding. “It still feels like that for me. My day to day life is so noisy, you know? The quiet is a little overwhelming.”

You nod and nudge his shoulder. “That’s gotta be good for you, though. Healthy, I think, to take a break from the noise.”

His shoulders drop, and he leans against you, just barely. “You’ve got no idea, little mirlo.”

You laugh and lean into him, too. He’s warm and firm against you. You could reach out, could touch him, could tuck yourself right into his side. He’d probably wrap his arm around you, probably pull you close. You bet he smells good, like sweat and smoke and laundry detergent, and maybe vanilla, or something spiced and warm, or…

His pinky bumps against yours on the log. You suck in a breath and look up at him. There’s a question in his gaze, one that has you nearly choking on thin air before he even asks it out loud.

“Can I kiss you?” He asks, nearly a whisper.

And you want to say yes. God, you want to say yes. But-

“Look, Danny,” you say, keeping your voice low. “You’re a sweetheart, really. And you’re cute-“

“Perfect, so-“

“But I don’t date guests,” you say, leveling your eyes at him. “Or, like- I don’t do hookups, or get close with guests. It’s against the workplace rules, and it’s a recipe for disaster.”

He smiles softly- you think somewhere deep in your heart, you knew he’d react like this. With kindness, understanding. He tilts his head, and he squeezes your knee gently.

“Okay,” he says, softly. “I’m not going to push you on this, because I don’t want to be a creep. But if you change your mind-“

“I won’t,” you say. You’re not sure if you’re trying to tell him or yourself.

“I know,” he agrees. You think he’s lying, too. “But if you do, promise you’ll let me know?”

You snort out a laugh and stick out your pinky. “Promise.”

He goes to bed soon after that. You stay up until the fire goes out, staring at the coals, wondering if you’ve made the right choice.

….

When you wake up the next morning to a shuffling noise outside your tent, your first thought is that the bears have finally come for you.

Your second thought, when you hear Danny’s laughter, bright and loud, is: why the hell is he awake? You can tell from the light outside that it’s barely morning. You hadn’t been planning on waking up for a few more hours, really. You hear him whisper your name loudly, and you groan, reaching to unzip the door to your tent just slightly.

He’s crouching in front of your tent, wearing a wide smile. “Wanna come jump in the river?”

You wonder for a second if this is some insane, weird dream. You blink and rub your eyes, but no, he’s still there.

“What?” You ask, voice scratchy with sleep.

“We’re gonna do a cold plunge,” he says. “Wanna join?”

“I thought you were a bear, you know.” You say, and he grins impossibly wider.

He makes a low growling noise. Behind him, near the fire ring, you hear one of his friends laugh. He rolls his eyes and reaches his hand out, tapping on the door of the tent.

“Come on, it’ll be fun,” he says.

“I didn’t bring my swimsuit,” you say. “And I don’t think I’ve ever heard anyone call a cold plunge fun.”

Somehow, though, you find yourself following him, and his friends down to the river. You’re not surprised to find they haven’t talked Will into joining- he promises to have hot coffee waiting for all of you. You’re in a pair of spandex shorts and a baggy shirt- the same clothes you’d worn to sleep. Danny’s reassured you that none of them have real swimsuits either, and you figure you can let the clothes dry by the fire while you make breakfast when you get back. The morning is quiet as you all hike to the bank of the river, other than the sound of water getting louder and louder. There’s the bridge you crossed over on the way, and the little pool that Danny had said looked like the perfect spot to jump in.

“You know, when you mentioned jumping in yesterday, I thought you were joking,” you tell him. “Remind me why we’re doing this again?”

“Health,” he deadpans.

You stare at him, wide eyed, waiting for him to expand on the statement. When he doesn’t, you roll your eyes and kick off your shoes anyways. He picks his way down the riverbank, peering over the edge into the pool of water. You follow along, wanting to get it over with.

He turns over his shoulder, grins at you, and then jumps in feet first.

He emerges from the crystal clear water with that same stupid smile on his lips. He wipes droplets of water from his face as he treads water, letting out a loud whoop. You want to scold him for scaring off any potential wildlife, but then he’s waving you in, calling your name. You sigh and brace yourself, consider chickening out for a moment, and then jump in after him.

The icy water shocks your senses so badly that you have to remind yourself to not breathe in underwater. It feels like needles all over your skin for a few moments, then uncomfortable numbness. When you emerge above the surface, you do so with a sharp scream, and to the sound of Danny’s laughter. You shake your head wildly and try to brush the cold water off your face with shaking hands. Then you swim for the bank.

“Gotta stay in,” Danny calls out, and you turn to look at him. “No health benefits if you just jump right back out. Give it a few seconds.”

You glare at him, teeth already chattering. “I think you’re full of shit.”

Even if he is, you stay in the water. You find a spot where your feet can at least touch the bottom. The rest of his friends jump in, too, splashing each other and Danny. You laugh as you watch them, watch the pure joy of a bunch of men turning back into children again. Finally, Danny swims for the bank and reaches for your hand to help pull you out. Your whole body shakes and shivers, and there are no towels to dry off with, because this wasn’t in the plans. There are wool blankets, however, and Danny picks one up and holds it out wide. In a moment of weakness and extreme cold, you let him wrap you up in it. There’s water glistening on his skin- you try not to stare. Nobody’s around to see other than his friends, anyways.

The whole group trudges back up to the campsite, where Will has a fire roaring and water for coffee heating up. You duck into your tent to change into dry clothes, and you take everything other than your underwear back out with you to dry. You’re not ready for the guys to see that this early in the morning.

You sit down on one of the logs, bundled up in a hoodie and sweatpants. Your wet hair drops cold water onto the back of your neck, and you shiver. The guys are still in their tent, and you can hear them chattering with each other. Will is eyeing you warily.

“I really didn’t think they’d talk you into it,” he says, quietly.

You shrug and muffle a yawn into your elbow. “He’s persuasive.”

Will quirks a brow. “Yeah?”

You close your eyes and drag a hand down your face. “Not like that.”

He hums. “The dude obviously has a crush on you.”

You pull your knee up to your chest. “I know. We talked about it. I told him… you know. It’s against the company policy-“

“You do remember how I met my wife, right?” He asks, quietly.

You keep your eyes closed, mostly because you don’t want to see the look on his face. “Yeah. Shut up.”

“Just saying,” he says, softly.

Before you can respond, there’s a commotion from the tent. You open your eyes to Danny stumbling his way towards the two of you, now dressed in a fuzzy sweatshirt and a pair of shorts. He saunters over to you and stops short, warming his hands on the fire.

“Well? Feeling the health effects?” He asks.

“I feel like a drowned rat,” you state, glaring up at him.

“You look like a drowned rat,” Will chimes in. You elbow him harshly.

“Mm, no, cuter than a drowned rat. Maybe a drowned koala. A drowned puppy?” Danny suggests, then frowns. “Alright, never mind, that felt morbid.”

The three of you laugh. One by one, his friends make appearances. Will hands out coffee and asks about the river, and you smile at the retelling of events. Eventually, you pack up all the gear- with help from everyone, a happy change from most groups, and head down the trail once again.

You know Danny will forget about you after he leaves, but you wonder if you’ll ever be able to lead another camping trip to this spot without thinking of him.

…..

Danny sticks to his word- he doesn’t make a move again. He does continue to spend time with you. You’re not exactly complaining, but it doesn’t make your decision any easier. He finds you on the back porch the next morning after the camping trip and resumes your morning coffee tradition. You put the book down fully this time- slip the bookmark into your page and close the cover. Your time may be limited with him, but you’re going to soak up every second.

You’re trying desperately not to get attached. It’s not working. He’s telling you a story about Australia, about his ranch there, about the dirt bikes and his parents and everything in between. And you sit there and regret ever telling him he couldn’t kiss you.

You know it was the right choice. Know it’ll only cause you heartbreak. But he’s so attractive, and sweet, and he loves his mother- his mum, even the way he says it is cute. You want to tell him you changed your mind. You sip your coffee instead.

You’ll be able to survive the rest of the week. Danny and his friends leave on Saturday. It’s Thursday now. That’s only a few more interactions, if you’re lucky. Only a couple more back porch morning coffee meetings, a few more drinks at the bar. You’ll survive, he’ll leave, and you’ll both move on. He probably already has.

Then you’re in the break room and you hear someone mention the Friday bonfire and Danny’s name in the same sentence, and your heart drops.

You and your coworkers have bonfires down by the employee housing every Friday. People who are working join after their shifts, and you all rotate the early Saturdays to make sure everyone can have a good time at least once a month. It’s your way to unwind. It’s supposed to be employees only, and sometimes a couple people’s friends. The only guests who’ve ever attended a bonfire since you started working at the lodge were a girl named Britt and her friends, and now Britt is married to your coworker Will.

“So Danny actually said they’d be at the bonfire?” Will asks, and you turn to stare at them.

Maybe he’s not talking about your Danny. You shake your head, knowing that calling him yours, even in your head, is stupid.

“Danny?” You ask. “Like- Danny?”

Will nods.

“What happened to no guests at bonfires?” You ask, turning towards the coffee maker to start another pot.

Tony, one of the kitchen staff, laughs. “Yeah, sure, but it’s a bit different when it’s Danny Ric, isn’t it?”

You shake your head in confusion and turn back to your two coworkers. “Have you even met him, Tony? Why are you out here calling him nicknames?”

Tony blinks widely at you. “That’s what everyone calls him.”

“Everyone.”

Tony nods and shovels a forkful of pasta into his mouth. You grimace. Will watches the two of you, an amused smile on his face. Someone calls Tony’s name, and he goes racing towards the kitchen, leaving his pasta abandoned on the table. You turn your stare to Will. Suddenly, you realize something.

“He’s like…” you sigh and sink down into a nearby chair. “He doesn’t just work for Red Bull, does he?”

Will laughs. “He told you he was in Scotty James’ wedding and you really thought he was just some company exec?”

“Will, I barely know who Scotty is!” You snap. “You should’ve told me.”

Will shrugs and pats your shoulder when he walks past you. “It was more fun this way. Besides, if he didn’t tell you, bet he didn’t want you to know.”

“What does he-“ you cut yourself off. “I mean, is he an athlete, then?”

Will is scraping food from his plate into the compost bin. “You ever heard of Formula One?”

You pick at your salad. “It’s like NASCAR, isn’t it?”

He makes a coughing noise. “Okay, maybe don’t start with that. I’ll give you a basic rundown.”

When you do see Danny the next morning, bright and early, you choose to start with, “good morning, Danny Ric,” instead.

He pauses halfway across the porch, hands at his sides. His skin is glistening with sweat. You’re wearing sunglasses- the perfect chance to let your eyes wander, just a little bit. He wipes at his brow and cocks his head.

“You don’t just work for Red Bull,” you say, and he chews on his lower lip. “I mean, understatement of the century.”

He laughs at that and takes a few steps towards you. “Yeah. Sorry.”

You shrug. “You could’ve told me, you know. I wouldn’t have treated you any differently.”

Instead of going for his normal spot in the chair next to yours, he stands in front of you. If he moved just an inch farther, his knee would touch yours. He sighs.

“I know. It wasn’t that. Honestly, I just figured you wouldn’t care,” he says with a shrug. “Like. You must get so many people here trying to convince you they’re not boring. It’s gotta get exhausting.”

You laugh at that. “Yeah, but your job is actually interesting,” you say. “You know, it does explain all the running. And all the adrenaline chasing.”

He finally sits down- you breath a sigh of relief. You weren’t really sure how he’d feel if you brought it up, but you hated the idea of knowing something about him without him knowing. You stick to your word- you don’t treat him differently. You pick your book back up and read for a bit until he gets fidgety, until he decides he wants to tell you another story. And then you listen with a smile, because it’s Danny. The joy is infectious.

…..

“You ever been to Yosemite?” He asks you later that afternoon.

You’re working the lunch shift at the bar. Danny had been wandering through the lobby, spotted you, and sat down for a drink. He’s having a mocktail, something you came up with just for him. You wonder how long it’ll be before one of his entourage comes looking for him. His phone has been buzzing repeatedly on the bar, and he’s been ignoring it.

You shake your head. “Not yet. It’s on my bucket list,” you say.

He nods. “That’s where we’re headed next. Spending a week there, and then it’s back to work.”

You blow out a long breath through pursed lips. “Your life is so difficult,” you say, teasingly.

He grins and shakes his head. “Wanna come with?”

You laugh as you scrub at a spot on the bar. You wait for him to echo the sound. He doesn’t. You look up at him, wide eyed. He should be laughing, he always laughs at his own jokes- it should be annoying, but it’s sort of endearing, the way he can’t finish a sentence sometimes, how he doesn’t make it to the punchline.

But he’s not laughing. “I’m being serious,” he says.

“Danny,” you say with a soft sigh. “We have a policy-“

“As friends,” he interrupts. “I promised I wouldn’t pressure you. That’s not what this is. You’re just… really cool, and we’ve got room in the car, and… I could really use your s’mores skills. Blake is shit at it.”

You cock your head at him. “I have to work. Not all of us get week long vacations in the middle of tourist season.”

He lets out a long sigh. “Right. Yeah.”

“Sorry,” you say, realizing you’re being a little harsh. “And thank you. The invite is really sweet. I just…”

I just can’t look at you without wanting to kiss you. The words are there, at the forefront of your mind and on the top of your tongue. It’s becoming a real problem, because he’s about to leave and you’re going to be stuck here, waiting and hoping he comes back. And he’s sitting here, asking you to go to a national park with him, and you want to say yes so badly because you think that maybe kissing him would be the best thing you’ve ever done. That maybe letting him in might be the right choice.

But he’s a guest, it’s against the rules, and he’s leaving. He sighs and nods, downs the last of his mocktail. He finally picks up his phone and raises his brows, then gives you a sheepish look.

“Gotta go,” he says, softly. “But I’ll see you tonight, yeah?”

You nod. “See you tonight.”

…..

You take your time getting ready for the bonfire. It’s difficult- usually you wouldn’t think twice about what you’re going to wear, or what you look like. But Danny’s going to be there, and suddenly everything’s different. You have a thin line to walk- go all out, and your coworkers will notice and tease you. Don’t put in enough effort, and maybe Danny won’t even look your way tonight.

You eventually settle on a pair of jeans and a crew neck sweatshirt. The sun has just gone down, and there’s already a chill in the air. You make your way down to the bonfire area, following the well worn trail and the smell of smoke.

Danny’s already there, standing around near the firepit. His friends are all scattered with the rest of your coworkers, eating hot dogs that were cooked over the fire and chatting. Someone’s set up lawn games, far enough from the firepit to keep anyone from getting injured. You grab a drink from the cooler and make your way towards the group, trying not to stare at Danny.

He calls out your name, though, in front of everyone, which gives you a valid excuse to make your way towards him. You weave through throngs of people and end up right by his side. He’s been chatting with Will and Britt, which you think is probably a dangerous combination for your sake.

“Bout time you showed up,” Danny says brightly. “I’m in s’mores withdrawal, and once I’ve had one of yours, I can’t go back.”

You laugh and kick your toe at the ground. “I told you, I did absolutely nothing different.”

“Nah, he’s right,” Britt chimes in, and you throw a glare in her direction. “You’re a s’mores magician.”

You sigh and roll your eyes, and then you turn to Danny. “You get me the supplies and I’ll make you a s’more.”

He bounces away eagerly. Both Will and Britt are watching you with knowing looks. Feeling childish, you stick your tongue out at them. Will manages to look vaguely offended, while Britt just laughs.

Danny returns with a roasting stick and all the s’mores ingredients. You take them without complaint, watching his hands as he gets the crackers and chocolate set up. He follows you closer to the fire as you search for just the right spot.

“He kept burning his to a crisp on the camping trip,” you tell Britt, a teasing lilt to your voice. “That’s why I made him one. He was helpless.”

Britt laughs. Danny jabs at your side, and you let out a yelp. Your drink is hanging from your other hand, and you take a sip before you stick the marshmallows over the fire. Across the fire, Tony, the guy who called Danny Danny Ric, is watching you with wide eyes and whispering to one of your other coworkers. This is what you were worried about- get close to Danny, and people will start talking. But he’s leaving tomorrow, and you can’t bring yourself to care.

“See, it’s not about the flames,” you tell Danny, who leans closer to listen. You gesture with your beer. “It’s the coals. You find the right spot, and then you gotta have patience. It’s a slow process.”

He lets out a hiss. “M’not good at patience. Or slow.”

You roll your eyes and smirk. “I’m sure you’re very fast.”

He gasps in mock hurt and digs his fingers into your ribs again. You squeak and bat his hand away.

“You’re gonna ruin the marshmallows!” You warn as he reaches for you again.

He pulls his hand back and smiles innocently. You take a sip of your drink and stare up at him through your lashes, the same way he does to you when he’s sitting at the bar. You wonder if it has the same effect on him as it does on you. From the way he swallows, you think it might.

…..

You’ve only had a couple drinks, because as much as you’ve said you’re going to forget about him, you really do want to remember every last moment. It gets late far too quickly. The stars are out, and the moon too, casting everything in a silvery glow. The moonlight paints one side of Danny’s face- the fire, the other. Warm and cold at the same time.

More than half the people who started the night there have wandered back to their rooms and cabins. Danny’s friends all went to bed a while ago, gave him stern instructions to join them soon. They’re leaving early tomorrow, getting up with the sun and heading out. He needs sleep.

Instead, he’s sitting next to you on a log next to the fire. Your knees are touching, shoulders brushing with every movement. He’s nursing his second beer of the night. You stare at the rose tattoo on his hand and fight the urge to trace the inked lines.

He nudges your shoulder lightly. You stare up at him, face warm, not from the fire.

“What’s going on in that pretty little head?” He asks, voice low.

You shrug. You can’t tell him. I want to kiss you. I want to feel your hands on me. I want to read the tattoo on your chest, trace the lines of all of them. I want you. I changed my mind. Except, really, you’ve wanted this the whole time.

“Just tired,” you say instead, rubbing your thumb against the can in your hand. “I know it’s your last night here and all, but I might head to bed.”

It hits you like a sucker punch as you say it- if you go now, you’re saying goodbye. You could get up early and see him off, but you think that’d be a bit much. He seems to realize it too- his face drops.

“I’ll walk you back,” he offers.

“You don’t have to,” you answer.

You want him to. But you know what you’ll do if you make it to the door of your cabin and he’s standing next to you. You know the choice you’ll make. You’ll regret it in the morning when he’s gone and already forgetting about you, when you’re just the girl he hooked up with at the lodge on his vacation, when he goes back to his life of luxury and supermodels and-

“I want to,” he says, softly. “There’s bears here, you know.”

He growls lowly, right near your ear. You giggle to cover up the way it makes you feel like you’re on fire. When he stands and holds out his hand to help you up, you let him. He says goodbye to a couple people. You avoid Will and Britt’s gazes. Then the two of you set off down the path.

He keeps his distance. I’m not going to push you on this, because I don’t want to be a creep. But if you change your mind… You reach out, bump your hand against his. Knuckle to knuckle. He echoes the touch. Then you wiggle your fingers against his, desperately hoping he gets the message. When he tangles his fingers with yours, something slips into place.

There’s this energy thrumming in your body when you make it to the cabin area. You’re sure you’re shaking with it, even more sure that he’s noticed. You head for your cabin and squeeze his fingers. It’s dark here, nothing but the light of the moon to see by. You walk up to the door, his hand still in yours.

“D’you wanna come in for a drink?” You ask, trying desperately to sound nonchalant.

He squeezes your fingers. You turn over your shoulder and meet his eyes. They’re half lidded and dark. Like he knows where this is going.

“I don’t want to pressure you,” he says. “That’s not what this was about. I don’t-“

“I know,” you say with a nod. “I know.”

He nods, ducks his head. You push open the cabin door and step inside, hand still linked with his. He takes a deep breath.

“I won’t be offended if you don’t want to,” you say, softly. “You can change your mind, too.”

His eyes slip closed, and he shakes his head. Then he follows you in through the open door.

He’s the one to shut it. And then his hand slips from yours and falls to your hip, pulling you close. You wrap your arms around his neck. Your heart is racing in your chest. You wonder if his is too. You blink up at him, watching the way his jaw clenches.

“Can I kiss you?” He asks again, for the second time in a week.

“Please?” You ask, softly.

It’s like all his resolve disappears with that one single word. The night fades around you- it's just you and him. Nothing else matters.

His lips are hot and insistent against yours. When his hands fall to your hips, they’re even hotter and more insistent. He walks you back towards the bed, shoving at your sweatshirt and the t-shirt underneath it. You do the same with his hoodie, hands scrambling underneath, searching for skin. The skin you’ve been looking at all week, wishing you could touch- you can, now.

He’s in your room, in your space, and he backs you up to the bed. Your knees hit the mattress, and you fall back, away from his kissing, with a soft laugh. You stare up at him through your lashes, your whole body on fire. His hand falls to your knee and draws a slow line up your thigh. You reach up and tug on the hem of his sweatshirt, chest already rising and falling rapidly.

He leans over you, and you know your hand in the neck of the fabric, trying to pull him closer. He has himself propped up over you with one hand, eyes lit up like firelight, lips parted.

“Kiss me,” you whine, as his palm falls to your hip and squeezes. “Danny-“

His lips meet yours again, and it’s frantic after that. You shove his shirt over his head- yours follows it to the pile on the floor. He steps out of his jeans after you undo the button and the zipper, and then he’s tugging your pants down your legs, breath catching in his chest as he gazes down at you. He sucks his lower lip into his mouth, biting down, and you trace fingers up the ridges of his abdomen. He traces a line from your navel up the center of your chest, presses his thumb to your lips, and you whine.

“Please, Danny,” you breathe.

His eyes slip shut. “M’trying to prove I can be slow and patient.”

You gasp as his hand cups your jaw. “Yeah- well- I can’t, so-“

He laughs lowly, and with his other hand, he hooks a finger in the waistband of your panties. “C’mon, little blackbird,” he says, and you writhe on the bed underneath him as he runs a thumb over your core, pressing into the wetness there. “Sure you can.”

When he sinks to his knees and buries his face between your legs, you thank the stars you didn’t let him leave without getting a taste of this, of him.

…..

After, the two of you lay spent in your bed. You’re tracing lines on his bare skin, both still naked. There are marks all over your bodies- hickies and fingerprints and bite marks. You’ll be feeling him inside of you for days, you’re sure. You run your finger under the words on his chest. Of Love And Life.

You know the song, so you start to whistle it. His laughter rumbles under your ear, deep in his chest, and then he starts to sing along with your whistling. It’s silly. If you told any of your friends about it, they’d cringe. But you feel the vibration of the words under his ribs and wish you could stay like this forever.

Eventually he stops singing, and you stop whistling. His hand sweeps up your bare back, fingers drawing shapes on your spine.

“Your cabin is cute,” he says.

You pick your head up and rest your chin on your hand that lays flat on his chest. “Thanks.”

He nods towards the poster on the wall. Yosemite is written in big letters, and you sigh.

“Offer’s still open,” he says, quietly. “No pressure. But.”

You let your eyes fall closed. “Danny.”

He cranes his neck up to press a kiss to your cheek. “I know. Sorry. I just don’t want to say goodbye yet.”

“We won’t say goodbye then. We’ll say see you later,” you suggest. It’s cheesy, but it feels right. “And you can stay the night, if you want.”

You expect him to say no. You’re sure his friends are going to panic when they realize he’s not in the room. But he just nods and pulls you close, and you rest your head on his chest again, and soon enough, you’re falling asleep, just like that.

You wake up the next morning before the sun is even up. The alarm on his phone is going off, and he’s doing a very bad job of muffling his swearing as scrambles out of bed to search for it. You tug the blankets over your head and groan until he shuts the noise off. You hear his footsteps, heading back to the bed. He tugs the blanket down so he can see your eyes and leans close.

“I gotta go, baby,” he says, quietly. It’s like it pains him.

“Yeah, I know,” you say, feeling like it pains you just as much.

He kisses your forehead and pulls the blanket down farther. He sits down on the edge of your bed and plants on hand right next to your head. You turn your face, press your lips to the inside of his wrist. Then you wrap your hand around his bicep and sigh.

“Thank you,” he says. “I had an amazing time this week. Wouldn’t have been the same without you.”

You laugh and squeeze his arm. “You just liked the s’mores.”

“No, I-“

“I know. Me too. Thank you,” you say.

He kisses your lips one more time. You press your hand to his cheek and try to burn this into your brain. Then he kisses your forehead again and stands up with a long stretch.

“See you later, mirlo,” he says, sounding more unsure than you’ve ever heard him.

“See you later,” you echo.

You watch him leave. Watch him walk to the door, watch the slope of his shoulders under his sweatshirt. Something awful twists in your chest.

“Hey, Danny, do me a favor?” You call out. He turns, brows raised.. “Try not to forget me, yeah?”

The corner of his lips tugs up into a half smile. “I don’t think I could if I wanted to.”

You close your eyes so you don’t have to watch him leave. You hear the latch of the door and bury your face in your pillow, resisting the urge to scream. You’d have at least three of your coworkers at the door if you did. The last thing you need is to alert anyone of Danny’s presence in your cabin, though they probably already know. You don’t want to give them any sort of confirmation, though. You roll over in bed and open your eyes, and you’re met with bright blue fabric, folded neatly on top of the other pillow. Danny’s t-shirt, left behind. Deliberately, it seems, from the way it’s folded. It’s some souvenir shirt from a ski chalet you’ve never heard of. He’d been wearing it the night before- you took it off of him. He left it on purpose for you to find. For you to have. In your moment of weakness, you grab it and press it to your nose and breathe in. That’s when you realize you’re absolutely never getting over him.

And then, you think. He left his shirt. He wanted you to have something to remember him by. In all of this, maybe you’re not the only one afraid of being forgotten. He’s larger than life, he’s a damn celebrity, but he’s leaving a little piece of him behind so you have a reminder. Like he knows you’ll put the shirt in your drawer and feel that feeling in your chest every time you reach for a different one. The bright blue is permanently burned into your brain.

Feeling especially self pitying, you reach for your phone, knowing that your camera roll from the past week is filled with pictures of him. May as well wallow in it, right?

…..

Danny throws the last bag into the trunk of the car and sighs. Blake slaps his shoulder, heavy handed, so hard it almost hurts. Maybe he needs that.

He’s been looking all over for you. He’d thought maybe you’d come to see them off, or that he’d at least see you once more before he left. But you’re not on the back porch reading, and you’re not in the restaurant, and you’re not in the employee break room, either. He thinks about going to your cabin and then realizes that would be crazy, and probably a little creepy. You’ve already said goodbye- or see you later, but still.

Someone starts the car. He drags a hand down his face. “I need coffee,” he says, and Blake nods.

Danny jerks his thumb towards the lodge and then walks in to grab a cup to go. He’s only delaying the inevitable, really. If you were going to show up to say goodbye, you’d already be there. He should just be happy with what he’s had. Happy that you let him in the way you did. He should’ve known it would only leave him wanting more, but it’s a bit late for that now.

He walks back outside, cup of coffee in hand, a frown on his face. His friends are packing the last bags and climbing into the car, and Blake is-

He nearly trips over his own feet, nearly spills his coffee down his chest. Because Blake is talking to you. You’re standing there, a book in one hand, his blue t-shirt in the other. His gut twists. Blake sees Danny and backs away to give the two of you space. Danny’s heart is racing as he walks up to you.

You hold the shirt out to him. “You left this.”

He left it on purpose, and he thought that was pretty obvious. Maybe that was unfair. Maybe it was selfish of his to want to leave a reminder of himself for you. He frowns and reaches for the shirt, tries to take it from your hand. You don’t let go when he pulls on it, and he looks at you in confusion.

“You left it on purpose,” you say, quietly.

He nods and swallows. “I didn’t want you to forget me, either.”

You nod back. You’re staring up at him, this knowing look in your eyes that has him frozen right in place. His heart skips a beat in his chest. You tilt your head towards the trunk of the car- there’s another bag sitting there, on top of all the rest of them.

“Blake says that seat’s still open,” you say, and he holds his breath. “And Will texted me this morning and said they’ve covered all my shifts for the week, for some reason.” He shrinks under your gaze, knowing that’s probably because he mentioned the Yosemite trip, and his inviting you, to Will. “So.”

“So,” he echoes, a little bit scared to believe that what he thinks is happening actually is.

You shrug and shoot him a bright, sunny smile. “I’ve always wanted to see Yosemite. And you need a s’mores girl. Still want me to come along?”

When he sweeps you into a big, dramatic kiss, right there on the front lawn of the lodge, you don’t complain. You just wrap your arms around him and kiss him back. In the trees above your heads, a blackbird sings.

for posterity’s sake please let it be known that i mostly finished this on January 31st, 2024, and then woke up to the news that Lewis Hamilton is going to ferrari in 2025. I feel like that is an important detail to be known. I decided to post it anyways. Thanks for reading the longest fic i have ever written i hope you enjoyed 💛

taglist: @4-mula1 @celestialams @struggling-with-delia @lovekt @i-wish-this-was-me @forzalando @iloveyou3000morgan @callsign-scully

#daniel ricciardo x you #daniel ricciardo x reader #Daniel Ricciardo fic #Daniel Ricciardo oneshot #Daniel Ricciardo #danny ricciardo x you #daniel ricciardo fluff #Daniel Ricciardo fanfic #Daniel Ricciardo imagine #danny ricciardo #Danny Ricciardo fanfic #formula 1 fanfic #formula 1 oneshot #formula 1 fic #formula 1 fluff

[formulaforza]

—everywhere, everything

keep my hand in yours ('til our fingers decompose) pairing: daniel ricciardo x female reader warnings: parent death, angst, language, driving under the influence, underage smoking/drinking love, mackie... 6.6k. part two of this guy (but I think can be read stand-alone). I hope I make u all sad enough that you never ask me for a part two ever again <3

I hear you’re snooping around the old stomping grounds. I’d love to be there when you do it. Bring your dad if he’s free. It’ll be a good night, lots of strawberry wine—the real shit this time. All love, (always your) Danny.

— —

Danny is notably absent from your mom’s funeral. Granted, he is in Budapest at the time, and he had two races this weekend. You know this because you still keep tabs on him, even if he’s not yours to keep tabs on anymore, even if there’s nobody to blame for that but yourself. 

If you didn’t know better, hadn’t spotted Grace, Joe and Michelle a dozen or so people back in line to greet you and your dad, you would have been able to convince yourself Danny didn’t have a clue your mom was even sick. She went quick, less than eight months from her death sentence to… well. From death sentence to death. 

Two hundred and thirty-one days since her diagnosis means two-hundred and twenty-eight days since you broke things off with Danny. So even if he was in town, you probably wouldn’t have seen him. You wish you would have though, that he would have appeared in the plethora of grieving faces. Not for you, but for her. She always loved him, even before you did. 

Grace’s arms feel like the light at the end of a dark tunnel when she finally gets to the front of the line. She squeezes you tight, the only way a mother knows how to, and you cry in her arms. Grace doesn’t tell you how sorry she is, or that your mom loved you so much, or that she’s in a better place now. She just hugs you and wipes away your tears. 

“Danny wishes he could be here,” she tells you, but you don’t want to think about him and you don’t want to believe her. 

“Tell him I said ‘thank you?’” you say, a forced smile on your face. It’s got to be the hundredth of the afternoon. If there’s one thing your mom is—was. If there’s one thing she was, it’s loved. Tell him I hate him, is what you wish you could say to Grace. Or maybe tell him I love him. 

A million and two hugs later and you find yourself missing his arms more than you should. He was always a good hugger, and you could use a good hug right now. 

— —

You showed up at the property fifteen minutes after the event started. You’d hoped to slip in and out, to at least be able to say you went, that you tried. You had no intention of trying to find Daniel, and you figured it would be easy to avoid him, especially if you showed up after everyone else did—it’s his show, he’s the man of the hour, everyone will be fighting for his attention. 

You don’t even know why you came, really. Maybe it’s to figure out how the hell Daniel even got your address to send the invite in the first place. You’d moved half a dozen times since he last knew you. Or maybe it’s that you don’t believe, even after seeing it with your own eyes, that somebody actually had success with growing berries in the heat. It could be that you just… It could be simple, that you miss your Mom, and that everything about that place reminds you of her. 

Whatever the reason, you put on a long, flowing sundress, tied your hair back, and slipped on a pair of comfortable sneakers and a denim jacket. You didn’t even bother to tell your Dad—knew he’d want to catch up with Daniel, or maybe want to strangle Daniel. You didn’t want to give him the chance to do either. You park on the dirt road that leads to the vineyard, because the parking lot is overflowing, a pattern you’re beginning to notice since he’d taken over. 

The place looks the same as it did last time you were here. DR3 Wines still adorn the fleet of ATVs out front, and the wooden letters on the perfectly red barn are still perfectly white. You give your name to the woman working the door, regret it as soon as you catch her announcing your presence over the radio-headset she wears. 

Momentarily, you consider turning around and walking right back to your car. But, you aren’t one to waste a good outfit, not if you’d gotten all dolled up like this, so you walk into the Barn with your head down. 

It smells the same inside; wood, lavender, citronella and alcohol. There’s candles burning to make it feel cozy, but they do a poor job at changing the aroma in the air. The walls are still hung with photos, and the counter is still that slab of wood. It’s exactly the same as it was a few months ago, and manages to remind you of the place you grew up without wearing your childhood memories like a costume. 

Daniel has always been easy to find in a room. He’s loud, his voice and his laugh vibrate off the walls of whatever room he’s in. He’s loud and he’s confident and sometimes it feels like he’s the only person in a room that’s really alive. That’s how it felt then, at least. 

It’s been thirteen years since you last shared a space with him, but the fact you can hear his laugh on the other side of the crowded room assures you that while everything has changed, some things have stayed exactly the same. 

You can’t see him, but man can you hear him. 

You sign the guest book—proof, in case anybody asks. Proof that you did show up. It’s the top of a wine barrel, DR3 2023 branded into the oak—two tops, because so many people are here. It’s covered in signatures and messages from people he loves. You feel guilty even signing it, but you do. 

Congrats Dan—your marker pauses. You scoff at yourself. Congrats Daniel. Time flies, 13 years! The place looks beautiful. Wishing you continued success, you write, finishing it off with your signature. 

He still wears the same cologne, you realize, when you look up and he’s leaning against the table watching you write. He wears the same cologne, and the same smile, even if less crooked. Everything else about him is different. His hair is shorter, eyes older. His arms are covered in art, face is all together thinner, and his five o’clock shadow is less of a pipe dream and more of a full-fledged beard. He’s taller, maybe. Or you’re shorter. It doesn’t really matter, you suppose. 

You purse your lips into a curt smile. He matches—you didn’t even know he could smile like that. “Hi, honey,” he says, leaning over to read your message. 

“Hi.” “Who’s Daniel?” He teases, the smile on his face growing into one you’re much more familiar with. You look back at your writing, but you don’t laugh. If anything, you’re sure you look a little scared. “I’m teasing.”

“I know,” you nod.

“Okay,” he nods right back, slow, apprehensive over your apprehension. 

“Sorry,” you force out a chuckle. “I’m being so weird,” and you adjust the strap on your dress. He shoves his hands in his pocket, rocks back and forth on the sole of his shoes. Do you know how weird it is to be face to face with someone you were head over feet in love with? It’s really fucking weird. You put your best smile on your face, “Hi, sorry,” you continue, opening your arms for what you think might be the most awkward hug you’ve ever given. 

He’s quick to pull his hands back out of his pocket, like he’s worried if he doesn’t act fast enough you’re going to rescind the offer. 

His touch is uncanny; familiar and comforting and unsettling. It melts the years away and you feel just like you did some twelve years ago when you wished so desperately for one of his hugs. You’re nineteen again, and he’s twenty, and everything feels like it’s going to be okay. 

“How are you,” he asks quietly, his arms tight around you. “You look great.”

“I’m okay,” you say over his shoulder, and then again, as if you’re trying to convince yourself: “I’m okay. How are you?”

“Oh, y’know,” he shrugs, pulling away from the hug, gesturing your question away. “Same old, same old.”

“Yeah,” you nod, even though you don’t know. Even though it’s been eleven years since you forced yourself to ignore his existence, since you last kept any sort of tab on him. You can’t get over how different he looks. How you’d still recognize him without a second glance. “You look different.”

He laughs, looks down at himself. At his arms, his hands. He can’t look at his face, but it’s different, too. “Yeah, I guess so, huh?” He keeps looking back at you every time he laughs. He makes sure you’re laughing, or smiling at least, before he lets his slip. “Is your Dad here?”

“No. He uh, he wasn’t feeling well.”

Once upon a time, Daniel could spot your lies from the other side of the vineyard. You get stiff and stuttery, he told you, it’s easy when you know what you’re looking for. That was once upon a time, though, and this is now. Now, you don’t know if Daniel remembers any of those little things about you. 

His eyes go momentarily soft, worried, almost. “Just a cold, yeah?”

“Exactly.”

“Well, can I get you a drink? Give you a tour?”

You look around the place—not much to tour. Not when it used to be yours, not when one of his teenaged employees gave you a tour a few months back. He seems so excited about the idea, though, so you go along with it. “Sure. Yeah, that’d be nice.”

“Nice, awesome,” he says, looking around the place like he forgot where everything is. He claps his hands together, pulls them apart into a snap, and points at you with both hands. “Stay here? I’ll be right back.”

“Okay,” you chuckle, and it’s genuine. “Staying here.”

“I know you, Bee,” he says, walking backwards away from you. B. He totally knows you’re full of shit about your Dad having a cold. “Don’t try to sneak out while I’m gone.”

“I won’t.”

“You promise?”

You nod. “I promise.”

— —

You, Daniel, and your Mom worked the closing shift that night. When he was around, that’s almost always how it went, because the two of you were the only ones who’d worked there long enough to know how to properly close up without a babysitter. 

Your Mom worked tediously in the office counting all the money—she was the slower counter of your parents, but it wasn’t like anyone was ever sitting around waiting on her. There was always something to be done, and Daniel was always good at making sure those closing tasks took up more than a chunk of the evening. 

You’d cleaned inside, swept the floors and vacuumed the rugs and cleaned the tables and the counters. You washed glasses behind the bar and restocked displays. The landline on the counter rang while you were writing up the day’s inventory, and you almost didn’t answer it, but your parents had told you to improve on your customer-service skills, even when you or the customer weren’t on site. 

To your surprise, the voice on the other end was Daniel’s. He was calling from the cellar, is too lazy to come over there to get shot down. “Is your Mom finished counting?” He asked, and you pulled the phone away from your ear to try and listen past the office door. 

“I think so,” you say, bringing the phone back to your ear. “We should be heading out soon.”

Sometimes you feel like you can hear Danny’s smile. “You wanna do the lock check with me?”

You slot the phone between your shoulder and your ear, returning your hands to the task of finishing up your paperwork for the night. You needed to be done when he got here, or there was no chance your Mom let you go with him. “How do you know I’m done with my shit?”

You can hear the lull of the old beat up golf-cart engine in the background, can almost feel the vibrations, can see clear as day Danny sitting there, lounging on the leather seat—tanned skin, unruly hair, toothy grin. “You always finish fast so you can daydream about your boyfriend,” he says, turning the last word into his own little sing-songy ballad. 

Your pen pauses on the paper, and you roll your eyes. “Jake isn’t my boyfriend.”

Danny laughs, and you roll your eyes again, pretend like you aren’t smiling. “Oh? But you knew who I was talking about!”

“Because you never shut up about him being into me.”

“Because he is!”

You set the pen down for good, now, grab the phone again because you want to make sure your next words come across loud and clear, even if it is the millionth time you’ve told him. “He’s my friend, Danny!”

“Oh, come on!” His laugh intensifies. “I don’t think a guy has ever been just friends with you.”

“You’re my friend, aren’t you?”

His laughter quells, and you’re sure he’s picking on the plastic of the steering wheel. There are so many scrapes on it from the same thing. He’s always picking at it, ever since you told him to give his poor nails a rest. He has to destroy something, you suppose—teenage boy and all—but you prefer a destroyed golf cart steering wheel to a destroyed Danny, so you let it slide. He sighs, and then he clears his throat, and the memory of your question dies in the silence. “Are you coming with me or not?”

“Are you coming to get me?”

— —

The air is chilly—nippy almost, especially with the sun dipping below the horizon like it is. You’re walking stride for stride with Daniel over the gravel path to the cellar, glass of sweet pink wine in your hand. He’s taking you to the strawberry field, per your request, because even after tasting it, even after telling you which field it’s in, you still don’t believe him.

“So,” he asks, one hand deep in his pocket, the other hanging in the space between your bodies. He’s very hesitant with you today, you’ve noticed. It’s nothing like the brash boy you called your first love. He’s gentle, softer, like he’s scared of his next words. “Who finally put that ring on your finger?” The threat of a smile is weak, but the idea of it alone is charming. 

You look at your free hand, carefully decorated with several different rings. “Which one?”

He drops his head to his shoulder, gives you a pathetic smile and a matching chuckle. “The only one an ex-boyfriend would ask you about, Bee.”

The sunlight—the little bit that’s left of it—catches the diamond on your ring finger. “Oh,” you shrug, dropping it back to your side. “It’s Mom’s.”

“I know,” he nods solemnly, and your head shoots over to look at him. You don’t know why he would remember that. “Who put it there, though?”

A smile pulls on your lips, and you bury it in the lip of your wine glass. “I’m not engaged, if that’s what you’re asking,” you laugh. “I just wear it… I don’t know, it makes me feel close to her.”

Sunsets at the property have always been gorgeous. When you were younger, you thought that maybe it was the most beautiful place in the entire world. The blues and the pinks and the yellows all mix together into some grand watercolor and tonight is no exception. 

The silence that lingers in the air should be awkward, but it’s not. It should be harder to be here, to watch the sunset, to walk the paths you have memorized, to stand next to Daniel after all these years. It’s not hard, though. It’s comfortable, like it was when you were sixteen and seventeen and eighteen and barely nineteen. Like it was all the time you knew him, even before you loved him. 

“I’m sorry,” he finally speaks. “She was really cool.”

You chuckle softly. It’s a familiar routine, consoling those attempting to console you about her death. “That’s what everyone says,” you say, even though Daniel might be the first person to posthumously describe your mom as cool. Lovely, you’d gotten more times than you could count. Beautiful and kind and oh honey, she loved you so much, you knew already. She was really cool, that’s a Danny-original if you’ve ever heard one. 

“I should have been at the funeral.”

“It’s okay,” you nod, because his presence wouldn’t have changed that your Mom was lovely and beautiful and kind and that she wasn’t around to be any of those things anymore. There wasn’t anything Daniel could have done to remedy that reality. “You were busy. We weren’t together,” and before he can come back with something, insists that it’s a bigger deal some decade later than it was, you change the subject. “What about you, though? Putting rings on anyone’s fingers these days?”

He laughs. A person can only get poetic about Daniel’s laugh so many times before it’s easier to just leave it at that. He laughs, everyone around him lights up, and he laughs some more. “Believe it or not, my work-life balance isn’t super great at fostering long-term relationships.”

You don’t exactly know what Daniel’s work-life balance looks like. The last time you paid any attention, he was racing with Toro Rosso. Every update you’d heard since had been one you weren’t looking for—commercials and posters and billboards and word-of-mouth; more than a couple ex-boyfriends and a few stray friends. 

You never cared much about racing. It was Daniel you cared about. 

There aren't a lot of specifics you remember about Daniel’s schedule, but you remember that he was almost always coming or going. There wasn’t much staying, and that was before he’d even made it to the big show. “You mean, women like it when their partners are around for most of the year?”

“They do, yeah,” he nods, dimples digging into his cheeks. “Crazy, right?”

“Crazy.”

— — 

Danny didn’t go down without a fight. He caught what had to have been the first flight home—home, you’re not sure that he can call Perth home now that he doesn’t live here. He caught the first flight to you, threw wood chips at your window at three-in-the morning. He didn’t need to wake you up, it’s been two weeks since you had any kind of meaningful sleep. You spend the majority of your time in bed looking at the ceiling fan spin or staining the sheets with your tears. 

You let him throw mulch for twenty minutes though, hoping that maybe he’ll give up and leave so you don’t have to face him. 

You’d done the breaking up over the phone for a reason. It wasn’t that you couldn’t wait until whenever he was home next. You could. It was that you couldn’t break up with him while looking him in the eyes, and you knew it. 

Eventually, though, you pull your pajama-clad frame out from under the warm covers, drag your feet the entire way to the window, pulling the curtains open just enough to confirm what you already knew—that it was him in the driveway. His entire face relaxes when he sees you there, forcing the window open. “What the fuck are you doing?”

“What the fuck am I doing?” He scoffs. “What the fuck are you doing?”

You cross your arms over your chest. The night air is cold and your pajamas are scarce. “I’m trying to sleep.”

He rolls his eyes, always dramatic, always over-the-top. “Come down here, honey.”

“No.”

“Yes.”

You stand there in silence, shivering in your bedroom window. He stands there in silence, thick jacket on and a handful of wood chips from the garden in your driveway. It’s a stalemate, and you don’t know which of you is more exhausted. Appearance points to him, but you dread that fact that you’re standing, that you’re tired enough to give up the fight this quick. 

“Fine,” you relent, and it’s less than two minutes before you’re running into him on the back porch, slowly closing the sliding patio door behind you so as to not alert anyone else in the house of his presence. “What do you want?”

“Where are your clothes?” He asks, and is already taking his coat off to wrap around your frame. You huff and puff the entire time he’s doing it, because your lack of clothing was a choice—you were hopeful that he wouldn’t keep you long if you were shivering. 

“What do you want, D?”

“I want you to talk to me,” he says. “Tell me what’s wrong so I can fix it.”

Your lip trembles, and you bite down on it to try and stop it, chew on the skin until you taste copper and then it still trembles. You don’t look at him, you can’t. “You can’t fix it.”

“No, no,” he argues, grabbing your elbow in a plea, stepping closer to you, speaking hardly above a whisper. “Just tell me, baby.”

You yank your arm away, tone a direct contrast to his when you insist: “You can’t fix it this time, okay!? Nobody can fix it.” You point an accusatory finger, like there’s actually something he’s done to deserve this. There isn’t, there never will be. “You can’t fucking fix everything just because you want to.”

He matches, points his finger at you, presses it into the middle of your chest. Your heart races. “You can’t just fucking break up with me because you want to.”

You swat his hand away, offended by the accusation that you wanted this, that any part of you is enjoying this, finding relief in this. You hate this. Fucking loathe it, but it doesn’t change any of the facts. “I don’t want to,” your lips downturn into a frown, all pathetic and trembled, and your voice cracks and shakes half as much as your lips. The tears that burn in your eyes are reflected back in his, tired and bloodshot and wet. 

“Then don’t do it,” he pleads. 

You gulp around the lump in your throat, voice leaving your body meekly through tears. “I have to.”

“No, you don’t,” he assures you quickly, his hands slotting on either side of your face, the pads of his thumbs wiping your tears, his fingers locking into the hair at the nape of your neck. He shakes his head before he speaks, brown eyes searching yours, begging you to change your mind. “You don’t.”

His hands on your face are what push you over the edge, turn you from poised and sniffly to half-wrecked—choking on sobs and swallowing snot. It all hits you at once, all the weeks of testing, the days of trying to come to terms with a diagnosis, the hours spent grappling with the fact that nothing will ever be the same about you. You’re changed, now, and you’re only going to continue to change. It’s not Daniel’s responsibility to see you through any of this fucking shit.  “I do, I do,” you sob. “I have to, I’m so sorry, I have to.”

He presses his forehead against yours, your tears mixing with his every time your noses bump. It calms you, if only slightly, and your eyes close, mind focused on remembering this, on remembering what it feels like to have his skin on yours, to feel his voice in your bones, to breathe in the same air, the same space, the same atoms. 

Your breath is shaky, but the pattern is steady. In, out. In, out. Your nose is so stuffed you can’t breathe through it. Your lips are all but touching his, a stray tremble holding the power to force them together. You don’t know if you want to kiss him or not, if it would make things better or so much worse. 

He swallows hard, pulling your faces apart. “I love you,” he mutters softly, like a wounded animal, and then he presses a long, hard kiss into your forehead. 

You sniffle, your hands holding onto his wrists. “I’m sorry.”

He nods, drops his arms, your hands falling into his. “Yeah.”

He lets your hands go, lets you go. You feel like you might be sick watching him walk down the steps of the patio, along the path of pavers to the gate. A shiver runs up your spine, and you pull his jacket closed over your chest. His jacket. 

You wipe a new set of tears from your cheek with the back of your hand. “Your jacket,” you sniffle, “hold on.”

He doesn’t stop, doesn’t even turn back to face you. “Keep it,” he says, unlatching the gate and slipping through to the other side. You sigh, and then you cough, and then you cry some more before finally finding the ability to move again, to go back inside and up to your bedroom, and that was that. That was the last time you saw Danny. The last moment that he was yours. 

— —

You’re walking back from the unbelievable strawberry field, quickly approaching the still lively barn, people and smiles and conversations pouring out into the adjacent spaces. Someone appears in front of you with a camera, with two cameras—one professional, and one a cheap polaroid. Smile, they said, and you laughed, your cheeks burning red. 

Daniel slinks his arm over your shoulder, and you step closer to his side. He flashes a toothy grin and a shaka sign to the camera. You hear the shutter of the camera take a dozen photos, and then the photographer holds up the polaroid—one for the road, she says, and Daniel pulls you that little bit closer, you blush that little bit harder. 

There’s a flash, and then you both relax, the photo printing out of the bottom of the camera. She holds it out Daniel, but he nudges you with his elbow to take it. You do, even though you aren’t sure you want it. 

You shake the polaroid while the two of you make your way into the barn. “What do I do with this?” You ask, looking carefully at the developed print. 

Daniel shrugs, leaning over. You flip the photo in his direction so he doesn’t have to lean as far, but he still does. “It’s cute,” he says. “You don’t want it?”

“I mean, I’ll take it, but…” But. But I’m going to throw it away when I get home. But it only reminds me of you. But it only represents what won’t be. 

He looks to the wall of photos behind the counter, eyeing the display carefully. You follow his sight line, your eyes going to the exact place you remember the photos of you being. You don’t know why you’re surprised that they’re still there, like you knowing they exist means they’d vanish. “Hang it up,” he says. 

You laugh. “Where?”

Daniel shrugs. “Anywhere you want.”

— —

The best part about only being able to afford cheap workers, was that you spent every day at the property with a new teenager looking to have just as much fun as you were. Between that, and the plethora of college kids that were constantly leaving to go back to school, to get a grown-up job, to get any job that paid more than your family could offer—there was always an opportunity for going away parties. And party, you did. 

You and your coworkers turned friends had slept down by the river more summer nights than you could count, hiding six-packs in the staff locker-room and hiding ziploc bags of joints behind the six-packs. 

Tonight, the going-away party is to honor someone whose face you won’t remember in a year, much less thirteen. He’d worked there for the holidays and not much more, and there wasn’t much memorable about him. 

The bonfire on the back of the property snaps and crackles, sparking off into the night and lights everyone in flickers of orange and yellow. The breeze has picked up after dark, and the tank-top and shorts you’d donned earlier in the day aren’t appropriate any more, one of Danny’s hoodies—a purple one that sits in his locker just for you to steal and smells like weed and wood from all the past nights just like this one—takes the chill out of the night and keeps the goosebumps off your exposed legs. 

The sky is clear and cloudless, a big moon staring back at you and a million shining stars fill the night sky. It’s times like these you think there’s no prettier place on Earth, nights like these where you feel completely rich. 

Two joints are being passed around the circle lazily, laughter and conversation filling the air. The first one comes your way from the left, from Daniel. He takes a long hit, the embers at the end of the paper burning orange with his inhale. He holds it in, nodding his way through someone else’s joke, and exhaling into a laugh. 

He looks at you, hesitates to hand it over. “I really don’t want a lecture from your parents tomorrow morning,” he teases, playful smile pulling on his lips, mischievous glint in his eye. 

You roll your eyes. “They won’t know,” you insist, to no avail. Daniel chuckles, but holds his resolve and passes the joint around you to the next person. 

Undeterred, you keep your eyes on the joint that moves clockwise, that comes to you from the other direction, a path with no Danny-sized roadblock. With practiced ease, you take a hit, exhaling slowly, savoring the warmth in your chest. You meet Danny’s eyes on exhale, find them half-amused and half-concerned, brows raised and smile drawn. 

“Whatcha got there?” He laughs, gently taking the joint from her. “I told you not to,” he continues, taking a hit himself before passing it along again. You grin, a wave of giddiness washing over you. It always goes like that when he laughs—makes you all warm and fuzzy and silly. 

“It’ll be okay, Danny-boy,” you laugh, leaning against him. Lazily, without hesitation, he tosses his arm over your shoulder and pulls you that much closer. You like being closer, can feel his laugh instead of just hearing it. You like the way his arm rests on your shoulder, the way his fingers trace patterns over the fabric of his sweatshirt, every touch echoing on your skin for minutes. You like being close, even if it makes your palms a little sweatier and your heartbeat a little faster. You could get used to being closer, you think. 

The fire is starting to die out now, and the air gets colder. You wonder how long your parents waited up for you to get home. The original excuse was that Daniel had forgotten the lock-check, that you wanted to come along and really, it’s no problem to drive her home. After about fifteen minutes, you’d snuck away from the newly-built fire to make a phone call, to let them know you were grabbing food on the way home and don’t wait up for me. You’re sure they did, though, even if only for a while longer. 

Anyway, the air is colder and the joints have been smoked through and the beers have been drunk—not by you, you’re too messy when you’re crossed. And not by Daniel, either, who refuses to drive drunk but insists on driving high. 

You yawn under Daniel’s arm, find a way to somehow lean in closer. “Sleepy?” he asks, and you nod. Carefully, like he’s done it a million times before, he presses a kiss into the crown of your head. It’s not the millionth time, it’s not even the second time he’s kissed any part of you. It’s the first time you've felt the press of his lips and you think that you’ll feel it there forever. “You wanna go?”

“No,” you say. “I’ll stay, make sure the fire gets out and everything.”

It’s not much longer, anyway, until the fire is being doused with water bottles and beer and everyone is taking turns spraying the same perfumes and colognes over their clothes in a poor attempt to mask the smell of smoke and weed. 

Daniel drives you home. It’s not the first time you’ve been the passenger in his old Ford Bronco. It’s not even the first time you’ve been in the truck while he was high. Usually, car rides with Danny consist of cranked down windows and loud music, of louder conversations and excessive laughter. This drive is quiet, though. 

His hands are steady on the wheel, eyes focused on the road ahead. There’s no music, the windows are up, and he doesn’t talk. You watch him carefully from the passenger seat, study him in your paranoia. You haven’t done anything, you don’t think. There’s no reason for him to be mad at you. Unless there is. 

“Did you have a good time?” You ask. Danny nods. “That’s good.”

He turns to face you at a stop sign. “Sorry,” he laughs. “I’m trying to focus.”

“It’s okay,” you nod. 

“It’s harder,” he explains. “It’s hard with you here.”

— — 

The evening you’d anticipated is far from the evening that unfolds. Fifteen minutes, maximum, in and out. That was the plan. But then Daniel—Daniel, and all the far-fetched dreams of him making himself at home in your life, all the passing thoughts you’d had over the years about the what-ifs; the grocery bills and the taxes and the white wine and the rusty barn doors. He glues you to his side for hours that feel like minutes. 

The event is winding down, people keep coming up to him, firm pats on the back and handshakes and hugs goodbye. They tell him how great the place is, how great the wine is, how great he is, and you move around like his shadow, smiling awkwardly whenever someone catches your eye and waiting for the next joke Daniel has to crack quietly, just to you.

You stand at a high-table next to him, elbows on the tabletop, shoulders bumping everytime one of you moves. There were people around the table, a reason—an excuse—for the proximity, but they’re long gone now.  “You know,” Daniel says quietly, dropping his head against his hands, speaking to nobody in the room but you. “I’ve missed you a lot.”

“Yeah,” you nod, speak just as softly. “Me too.”

He takes a long drink from the wine glass in front of him. Liquid courage, you know now, for what he was going to do next. The glass returns to the tablecloth with a soft pat, and he lets out a heavy exhale. “I heard there’s a new coffee place opening in Northbridge?” He asks, and you assume it’s because he knows your neighborhood, wants to know more about it. The wine has made you naive, or maybe you’d just pushed the reality of his implication so far from your mind that it’s an impossible thought. 

“Yeah,” you nod. The new coffee shop in Northbridge is a seven minute walk from your apartment, and is on your way to work. You’ve been eyeing the place since the empty building went up for lease. “It’s got this super cute bakery right next door,” you add. “I think they opened last week.”

Daniel nods. “I’d love to try it out.”

“Yeah,” you continue, still genuine and naive and oh-so silly. “You should. I’ve heard good things.”

He laughs, then. Laughs this specific kind of Daniel laugh that you used to get so excited to hear. It meant he was going to do something for—or to—you. He’d laughed like that before he kissed you for the first time, and he’d laughed like that while orange juice ran down his arm and he asked you out for the hundredth time. He’d laughed like that on every anniversary, every birthday, every holiday. It’s Danny’s you laugh. “I’d need someone to go with, though,” he says. And the laugh and the words and the whole thing clicks. Daniel is trying to ask you out. “I don’t really know my way around Northbridge.”

A lie, objectively. One that confirms the assumption you’d just jumped to. Daniel’s first apartment was in Northbridge. He lived eleven minutes from where you live now. He knows the place like the back of his own hand, knows the streets like he used to know you. 

You nod into the bottom of your wine glass, watching the liquid spin around the clear glass. “You don’t?”

He purses his lips, looks all deep in thought. “No,” he shakes his head. “No, I don’t think I do.”

“Oh,” you frown, your eyes meeting his. It’s really hard to mess with him when he looks at you like that. Hard, but not impossible. “My dad’s usually around.”

He chuckles. “Your dad, huh?”

“Yeah, yeah,” you nod, a smile pulling impossibly hard on your lips. “Retirement and all, you know.”

“Oh, sure.”

“I guess…” you shrug, stop spinning your glass and set it down altogether. You push it slowly across the tablecloth towards the center. “I could always show you around, too.”

He leans back, stands up straight and scratches his beard, makes a piss-poor attempt at wiping the dimpled smile off his face when he cocks his head to the side and says, “As much as I like your dad…”

“As much as you like my dad.”

And, because Daniel was never really Daniel, because he’s always going to be your Danny, no matter the time or the distance or anything else that should get in the way, he says: “You’ve always been my honeybee.”

— —

“Don’t call me that, Mom,” you shouted from the office, gathering your morning gear. You were working tours with Danny, today, and the two of you had spent all morning bickering over who gets to be lead and who has to be secondary guide. While you shoved the batteries into the walkie-talkies, you could overhear Danny successfully pleading with your Mom. Honeybee, she’d called out to you. Let Danny take Lead today, won’t you? 

She laughs. You roll your eyes, slipping behind the counter where she leans, where Danny lounges on a stool. You toss Danny’s walkie at his chest, and he catches it before it hits him. She raises her brows pointedly, meets Danny’s eyes in some shared language, a shared silent remark about you. “Why not?”

“Because. It sounds like something Grandma would say.”

Your mom smiles, twirls the end of your ponytail around her finger. “But you’re so sweet”

Danny chokes on his laugh, shooting up straight in his seat to clear his throat, to cough into his elbow. “She is NOT sweet.”

You scowl, shove his shoulder gently. It only makes him, and your mom, laugh harder. “Hey!”

“You make my life sweet, baby girl,” she hums. 

Danny nods, falling back into his comfortable spot, crossing his arms over his chest. “You’re kinda like a bee,” he says, leaning back even further. Your entire day would be made by him losing his balance and falling flat on his ass. “You make her life sweet but for me…” he pauses. “You’re just this annoying little buzzing I can’t shoo away.”

Silently, you hold up both middle fingers to him, walking backwards out from behind the counter, towards the back door. Your mom only laughs at you, always laughs at you and Danny. “Love you, Bee,” she calls to you, and winks at Danny. 

“Yeah,” he calls, the stool creaking underneath him as he properly stands up. “Love ya, Bee!”

#daniel ricciardo edit #daniel ricciardo x reader #daniel ricciardo fic #daniel ricciardo imagine #daniel ricciardo #daniel riccardo x reader #daniel riccardo imagine #danny ric #danny ricciardo #dr3 #f1 edit #f1 fic #f1 fandom #f1 fanfic #f1 #f1 2023 #f1 x you #f1 x reader #daniel ricciardo angst #daniel ricciardo fluff #formula 1 #formula one #thank u noah kahan for being daniel coded time and time again #also not me posting this in the middle of the night for Europe on a sunday #shes gonna flop. and she's gonna flop hard

[f1version]

MEET ME AT THE GALA ★ DR3

pairing: daniel ricciardo x famous!reader (she/her)

summary: Everyone knows you and Danny have a crush for each other, but you have never met, only texted once or twice. Now you he says he will be at the Met Gala, you don’t believe him, at first.

I had half of this ready for yesterday but this request inspired me so much I had to add the crush factor <3

notes: just me working faster than a red bull

yourusername’s insta story • close friends

direct messages • danielricciardo

themetgalaofficial

Liked by danielricciardo, taylorswift and 75,715 others

themetgalaofficial Y/n Y/l/n at Met Gala 2023

themetgalaofficial

Liked by yourusername, harrystyles and 98,715 others

themetgalaofficial Daniel Ricciardo at Met Gala 2023

yourusername's insta story

#‎ “ ࣭⸰ ★ my writings ! #daniel ricciardo #dr3 #danny ric #danny ricciardo #daniel ricciardo fic #daniel ricciardo social media au #daniel ricciardo x you #daniel ricciardo blurb #daniel ricciardo x reader #daniel ricciardo x y/n #daniel ricciardo imagine #daniel ricciardo drabble #daniel ricciardo fluff #dr3 wine #dr3 x reader #f1 #formula 1 #f1 imagine #f1 fic #formula one #f1 social media au #f1 x reader #daniel in redbull #daniel ricciardo smau #f1 x you #f1 fanfic #f1 2023 #f1 smau

[surfacelvl]

ricciardo. in profile once again.

#daniel ricciardo #formula 1 #f1 #formula one #red bull racing #visa cashapp racing bulls #visa cash app rb #rb #rbr #ricciardo #danny ricciardo #grand prix #procreate #digital art #digital painting

[unmanageably]

the full lean in head-on-shoulder hug that daniel gives..

#daniel ricciardo #formula 1 #formula one #f1 #ricciardo #danny ricciardo #abu dhabi 2022 #abu dhabi gp 22 #abu dhabi gp 2022

[eccentricwritingbaby]

i miss you, i love you

daniel ricciardo x fem!reader

summary - danny gets back from the mexican gp and realizes just how badly he missed his wife and kids. that all leads to many questions about his future.

masterlist

quick author’s note! the kids are named because that's just easier for me but i do apologize if that’s annoying :/ oldest is joey (10) middle is austin (7) and youngest is delaney (4). 

-

the sun poured in through the curtains that were left just a bit too wide open last night, causing you to blink heavily and finally open your eyes.

the best part of your wake up was the lovely tattooed arm that lay across your stomach and the man whom it belonged to warm and comforting pressed up right against your back. daniel had arrived home only a day prior from the mexico gp; therefore, having him there in the morning made your smile grow so much wider as you stretched and began to wake up.

the sun was entirely still too bright for your fresh eyes, causing you to roll over and into the warmth of your husband. he caught on quick, wrapping his arm tightly around your back, tucking you into him further. 

“g’morning, love,” his voice scratches out into a mumble.

“morning, baby,” you mumble back to him.

daniel’s face tugs a small smile as he relishes being home with his family. as much as he loved the adrenaline pump in racing, the fans, the tracks, the travels and so on, he continuously is bogged down due to his family being unable to travel with him. his wandering thoughts are abruptly stopped as he feels his lovely wife begin her trail of morning kisses spread over his chest, neck, and now his graciously awaiting lips.

“mmh i missed this,” he hummed into the kiss you gave him. you smiled up at him while whispering a quick ‘so did i, baby’ against his lips.

you both had been together for so long and yet your spark was shining and sparkling bright as ever. daniel had joked before that it was because you both simply just lived in your own bubble, therefore there were no ‘exterior forces’ to get in the way. but everyone knew by just the way you looked at each other that you two were just in love, therefore your prosperity was inevitable.

you both were just simply enjoying each others presence and basking in the loving exchanges of kisses and cuddles the morning brought, “d’ya reckon the rascals are up?” daniel questions in between your light make out session.

him saying that led you to reach over his body towards his nightstand and tap his phone in order to check the time, “8 am? on a day off school? no way joey or austin would even be able to open their eyes at this time,” you joked about your two older boys. as you both laughed about your sons and their aggressive hostility towards mornings, the sweet little footsteps were beginning to draw near. daniel quickly shushed you when noticing the little outline of feet shadows peeking from underneath the crack of the door.

“princess? are you spying on mommy and daddy?” daniel called out towards said feet. you both then heard the loud echoing of giggles produced by your youngest as your husband made his way to the door. he quickly opened it and scooped her into his arms yelling out a ‘gotcha!’ making her giggle even louder.

you proceeded to get out of bed and head over to where your youngest was now reaching out for you, “hi lovebug, how did you sleep?” you ask her while taking her from your husband's arms and into your own.

“vewy good, mommy,” you and your husband smile at her little mispronunciation and continue to move out of your room and down the stairs. your daughter continues to cuddle into your arms before daniel is itching to get her back.

you always joked that he had separation anxiety from the children due to his persistence to be with them 24/7 whenever he was home. of course, you held sympathy for his situation and let him steal the kids whenever he could. the older two were beginning to be too ‘old’ and ‘cool’ to be with their dad as often but his precious youngest was still attached to his hip. she reached right out for him as he got her out of your grasp.

“miss me, laney?” he asks the young girl.

“of couwse, daddy!” she giggles out and he continues to kiss her all over her face.

“alright, alright both of you children, i need some breakfast orders,” you say with a chuckle as you squeeze behind the both of them in order to get behind your kitchen counter. 

on your way daniel gives you a playful swat to the bum, “oi, darling i can fix breakfast just give me a minute,” 

“don’t even think about it, dan,” you give him a small smile and drop your voice closer to a whisper so only your husband can hear your next line, “the kids have missed you way more than they care to admit, just spend all your time with them i can handle this stuff,”

daniel looks down at you and gives you a fast kiss before hearing another couple pairs of footsteps bellowing down the stairs and into the kitchen. “hello boys,” you smile as your two older sons approach their family. 

“hi momma, hi dad,” austin says through a yawn. austin - ever the mommas boy - then shuffles right over to you and begins to lean into you for a hug. you wrap your arms around him and gesture for joey to join as well to which he does.

daniel stands with his babygirl in his arms and admires the view of his wife and sons. he basks in the feeling of being home with his family, as he attempts to suppress the emotion in his gut of guilt in needing to leave again soon for the next race.

it was a struggle every time he had to leave, he wanted to head back to the days when the children were so young that you and him would bring them everywhere. his family was still together with him, although now it just felt lonely. he debated bringing them with, to hell with school, fuck an education - actually, well, no. they have to go to school, but still maybe a year off they would enjoy, its only middle school? he makes a quick mental note to bring it up later - there was no way he'd last the season without you and your kids by his side.

when he brings himself back to reality, delaney is wiggling out of his arms as the boys are helping you mix up some pancakes. you then let the boys help delaney mix all of the batter as you take a moment to drink in your husband's emotional state. throughout your many years of knowing him and loving him, you were always able to read him like a book.

sauntering over towards daniel, you slowly step in front of him, hands landing gently on his waist in order to bring his focus onto you, “what’s going on in that head of yours, handsome?”

“i really miss you guys when i’m away,” he sighs.

“we miss you too,” you push on gently. daniel rubs one hand over his face as his other leans over your shoulder and around your neck, pulling you closer.

“i’m just still debating if i made the right decision to get back into all of this, i mean lawson is doing really well maybe i should just-” 

“hey, hey, hey - none of that,” you interrupt, “dan we talked about all of this when you accepted the seat. you wanted to do this, you want to do this. racing is your life, if you have an opportunity to do it, you’re taking it and loving it,” 

“i know but i can’t help but feel like it would be so much better here with you and the kids,” he replies while his arm begins to slowly rub gentle circles on your shoulder.

you give his nose a small peck before sighing,”the kids and i have been talking briefly about homeschooling,” with that daniel’s eyes light up and a smile breaks out on his face, “baby don’t tease me,” he laughs. 

you softly turn around to your lively group of children before yelling out, “who here agreed they missed dad and wanted to homeschool for his season?” the kids all swiftly pick their heads up with crazed smiles and began a chorus of ‘i did!’ ‘me! me! me!’ ‘yes meee!’ while you just laughed and daniel stood with a tight grip on you and a beginning line of tears in his waterline.

he quickly shook off his emotions, picking you up and spinning you around while continuing to yell about bags being packed and calling the school to get his kids the hell outta there and with him to brazil. the house began to turn to chaos as all the kids were running around chanting and cheering about no school while daniel made his way over to you.

“now, mister, you know this cannot be a permanent thing. i really want to value some normalcy in our kids lives and education is very important along with their social health-” but your rant was quickly cut off by dan’s searing lips on yours.

“thank you,” he whispered. “always,” you whisper back, “y’know, i missed following you around too,” you giggled into the whisper.

“god, i love you. I love all of you guys so much,” daniel says back.

“trust me honey, we know,” you reassure him. and you did know, all of you. 

#daniel ricciardo #daniel riccardo x reader #danny ric #dr3 #dr3 x reader #dr3 imagine #daniel riccardo imagine #max verstappen #rbr #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #charles leclerc imagine #f1 fanfic #ln4 #carlos sainz jr fanfic #charles leclerc #carlos sainz jr x reader #charles leclerc x female reader #f1 #formula 1 #lewis hamilton #red bull racing #formula one #danny ricciardo #danny ricciardo imagine #daniel ricciardo x reader #daniel ricciardo imagine #daniel ricciardo x you #daniel ricciardo fanfic #daniel ricciardo smut

[honeybadger16]

Boyfriend! Daniel Ricciardo Headcanons

Pairing: Daniel Ricciardo x reader 

Warnings: sexual themes, swearing 

a/n: Daniel has me so whipped for him <3 hope you enjoy!

Daniel wanted your guy's first date to be fun for the both of you

This included visiting shops that had your favorite foods and hobbies

He wouldn't let you pay for anything and insisted you get anything you want

The date ended you the two of you drinking wine at his apartment and kissing while a bit tipsy

dates with Daniel always explore the fun areas of any city the two of you live in 

dates include painting lessons, mornings spent in the marketplace, coffee dates, and festivals nearby 

He waited until you were comfortable to initiate anything sexually and wanted to make you feel as comfortable as possible

Daniel radiates big dick energy 

He is very adventurous in his hobbies and passions 

especially in bed 

 He bought handcuffs and some toys as a joke but reallyyy enjoys using them on you 

(One time Max accidentally found the handcuffs on the floor and teased Daniel about it for years)

very attentive to your body’s response to his touch 

loves to guides you through an orgasm

he’s a fast learner 

immediately finds the sweet spots on your neck

Daniel has a low-key breeding kink 

Especially if he sees you with children 

This man wants like 10 kids, but is willing to just practice for now lol 

Celebrates race wins and podiums with drunk but romantic sex

Morning sex with him whispering sweet phrases makes you never want to get out of bed

Has tried to cook you breakfast in bed

He almost burnt the house down

So either you cook or the two of you order food out

Knows all your food and drink preferences by heart

Daniel's favorite photography muse is you of course

He has thousands of photos of the two of you

His favorites are of you looking up at him and your eyes crinkle when you smile

Music is definitely a love language for Daniel

He always shares his playlists with songs that remind him of you

Singing Taylor Swift songs in the car at the top of your lungs is therapeutic for the two of you lol

Fighting with Daniel isn't something that often happens, but when it does the two of you are very passive-aggressive towards each other

He sometimes struggles with communicating his feelings,especially when he isn’t getting the racing results he wants 

if you do end up arguing he regrets it immediately 

apologies includes cuddles while talking it out 

Daniel loves everything to do with your hair 

he will stare the whole time you do your hair with heart eyes 

growing up with a sister Daniel is an expert when it comes to periods 

he would love to give you back massages and there are always heat pads in the apartment 

when you get sick he’ll dote on you getting you your favorite foods and not letting you get out of bed 

when Daniel is sick he’s a total baby 

(has definitely never imagined you in a nurse’s outfit)

he would be more cuddly than normal and end up getting you sick too lol

he started to move your stuff into his apartment the longer you dated 

when you started to realize he denies of course, but Daniel is not very good at lying lol 

his favorite pet name for you is honey 

or good girl/boy, depending on his mood 

I see Daniel as a private person when it comes to relationships, but he definitely shares photos to Max, Lando, etc. 

He loves showing you off to his friends, but god help anyone who looks at you for more than 5 seconds

Definitely would pull you into his lap giving the person a good stare down before giving his attention back to you

until he realized people who knew him as a child were telling you embarrassing stories of Daniel growing up 

he would be excited to show you his childhood home and town

you love seeing photos of little Daniel with the same big smile

Daniel brought home a foster puppy and named him Milo

The two of you ended up keeping the energetic puppy

You and Milo are his favorite people to see the paddock

Daniel couldn't celebrate his wins and loses without you and adores you

#f1 #f1 fandom #daniel ricciardo #danny ricciardo #daniel ricciardo smut #daniel riccardo x reader #daniel ricciardo imagine #f1smut

[existence-is-overrated]

good end: it will never be the way it was

bad end: it will never be the way it was

true end: it will never be the way it was

#don’t mind me #just thinking about rb dan again and breaking my heart 💔 #something about the things we cannot return to #daniel ricciardo #danny ricc #danny ric #danny ricciardo #maxiel #formula 1 #formula one #f1 #red bull #red bull racing #daniel ricciardo aesthetic #ricciardo #max verstappen #dr3

[nordschleifes]

Daniel Ricciardo getting ready for MET Gala (x)

#met gala #daniel ricciardo #danny ricciardo #danny ric #dr3 #dr #formula 1 #formula one #f1 #f1edit #f1edits #f1 gifs #nordsgif

[vinylsbygi]

your fan, my fan/daniel ricciardo

in which what every fan dreams of happens

ynlovesdanny

Liked by danielricciardo, dannyluvr and 5,926 others

ynlovesdanny what a day!! Not only did I met this sunshine but seeing him on the podium again made my life so much more beautiful! So so proud and so so lucky to have seen this @/danielricciardo

View all 678 comments

danielricciardo you were lovely to meet! thank you for supporting me ;)

ynlovesdanny pleasure was mine! keep going, daniel!

enjoyingthebutterflies gurl how are you so calm!?

ynlovesdanny oh no, no, i'm FREAKING out actually

danielricciardo

Liked by pierregasly and 717,345 others

danielricciardo This is what 1,204 days looks like. Highest of highs ⛰

View all 3,099 comments

australiaforricc good to see you up there again!

landonorris what a race it was! congrats mate!

ynlovesdanny kind of sad this is highlight of my life so far, kind of beautiful that it's him

liked by danielricciardo

ynlovesdanny

Liked by dannyluv, f1fan and 2,629 others

ynlovesdanny still in absolute awe of this man.

View all 285 comments

yourbestie you're in love with him

ynlovesdanny and what?

dr3kikikirq jealous of you

ynlovesdanny I'd be jealous of me too

yn.yln

Liked by danielricciardo, yourbestie and 15,826 others

yn.yln here's a thing...

View all 8,297 comments

dannysracing oh my god!?!

yn.yln i know!!!

danielricciardo my biggest fan

yn.yln no u

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

it was actually pretty fun making this one! i hope you like it my dear anon! also my requests are now open <3 go check out my recent daniel fic champagne problems :)

main masterlist f1 instagram au

inbox 💌

#gigi's instagram au 💌 #daniel ricciardo x reader #daniel ricciardo x y/n #daniel ricciardo x you #daniel ricciardo x ofc #danny ricciardo #danny ric #daniel ricciardo instagram au #f1 instagram au

[norrussell]

I saw this I thought this

#Idk but in my head it makes sense #Also my fave pic of Dando!!! #lando norris #ln4 #daniel ricciardo #danny ricc #danny ricciardo #dr3 #dando #oscar piastri #op81 #mctwinks #twinklaren

[delicateflappizzaplaid]

Daniel Ricciardo

#dr3🦋

← Main Masterlist

#daniel ricciardo #daniel ricciardo x reader #daniel ricciardo x you #daniel ricciardo x female reader #danny ricciardo #danny ric #danny #daniel #Ricciardo #honey badger #f1 #red bull formula 1 #formula 1 #formula one #formula racing #red bull racing #red bull f1 #red bull team #mclaren #mclaren f1 #alpha tauri #visa cashapp racing bulls #visa cash app rb #grand prix #gp #Australian #enchante #our song #dr3 #dr

[jaeeyaaasworld]

Work Wife - DR3

Featuring: Daniel Ricciardo x Engineer/Fem/Reader

Warnings: annoying ass pick me girl, mentions of sex (very, very little), girl trying to steal Y/n's man, loyal af Daniel (we stan)

Requested: Yes/No

"hey Daniel"

Claire waved to the driver, a big smile splitting her face in half.

"here she goes"

Y/n rolled her eyes, as she watched Claire come closer to where they were having a conversation, turning to Daniel a moment after.

"listen- I'm gonna head to the meeting room, you have fun"

she said, patting her boyfriend on the arm as he tried to grip her fingers to not let her go.

"ah princess, don't leave me alone in this mess, please"

Daniel pleaded the girl with the best puppy eyes he could pull, but unfortunately the girl just shrugged and turned the other way to walk towards the meeting room, that leaving him alone with this crazy ass woman that declared to be his 'work wife'.

"oh- hi, Claire. how are you doin'?"

he asked, unable to turn someone down.

"I'm doing so fine since we started talking, what about you?"

Claire responded, clearly flirting with the man in front of her while his mind was just thinking about how the conversation is going to end soon and he could actually go back to his girlfriend.

"I'm... fine. well- we have a meeting in five, how about you start going? I'm gonna head in real quick"

Daniel said, trying to make the girl go away so that he could walk to the meeting room peacefully.

"okay, sure. I'm gonna save you a seat next to me"

the girl squealed, making Daniel nod his head in agreement, not even knowing what she was talking about. everyone knew that the only seat Daniel was gonna sit on is the one next to his girlfriend and absolutely no one could sit in the chair or could make him sit somewhere else. he was not gonna sit next to Claire.

Claire turned around and skipped her way to the meeting room, as Daniel turned the other way to go search for Max, since he didn't want to walk all over to the meeting room be himself. what if he got ambushed by that woman again? nah-ah, not happening.

"Max- Max, Max, Max"

he called his teammate that was looking at his phone in a corner of the garage, making the man lift his face and watch him with a frown on his face.

"what the hell, mate? what happened?"

Max calmly asked Daniel, putting his phone back in his pocket to give his undivided attention to his friend.

"you know that crazy chick that goes after me?"

Daniel started explaining, only getting a few nods from Max.

"well- she told me that she was gonna save a seat for me next to her, and I'm gonna need your help, okay?"

he finished his little story, as Max nodded his head in agreement, while he stood up from his sitting position.

"what do I need to do?"

Max asked, placing his hands on his hips while waiting for Daniel to tell him his plan.

"alright, you're gonna enter the room first and you're gonna take the seat next to her. she's gonna complain that she was saving that seat from me and ask you to get up, you're gonna start apoligizing and pretend to get up from the seat"

Daniel started telling Max what he was supposed to do in an hushed voice.

"BUT- I'm gonna place my hand on your shoulder and tell you 'oh, no biggie, stay seated', and you're gonna ask me 'are you sure, mate?', and I'm gonna respond with 'sure, I'm gonna take that seat over there'. so I can sit on MY chair next to MY Y/n, deal?"

he asked, extending his hand towards Max to shake hands.

"fine, but what do I get in return?"

Max asked back, not planning in giving in so easily.

"I don't know, mate. whatever you want, alright? just don't make me sit next to Claire"

Daniel pleaded, making Max laugh at his desperation and shake his head in approval to him.

after the meeting

the plan went smoothly, Daniel got to sit next to his princess, and the meeting went perfectly. Y/n did most of the talking, since she was one of the most important engineer in the Red Bull team, making the man proud of her. Claire interrupted her a few times, most of the time were stupid things that she didn't wait for Y/n to talk about, but it was okay, since she was new and needed to get to know the job still.

everyone exited the meeting room, a little wink exchange between Max and Daniel that went unnoticed, as he placed his hand on the small of Y/n's back. the man guided his girlfriend outside of the meeting room where Willow was, one of our media manager that was currently on maternity break.

Claire was the first one to approch the woman, as she was the first one to exit the meeting room. she went in for an hug, making Willow slightly uncomfortable since they only saw each other like three times in total.

"oh my god. you're pregnant"

the woman asked, as Y/n walked past her to get to the pregnant lady to give her a tight hug.

"how are you, boo? I haven't heard from you in a while"

Y/n said, going back to where Daniel was standing and placing an arm around his torso, as he placed his on her shoulder.

"well, yeah- pregnancy is... ugh, can't even describe it. but what were you up to?"

Willow asked the two women, while she gave Daniel a little pat on the arm as for saying hi.

"just finished a meeting. you know that feeling that you have when you are the only girl that actually participates in meetings? like- I'm so tired of carrying our gender"

Claire said, making Y/n let out a whole-hearted chuckle, as she turned towards Daniel to hide her face in his shoulder to not make a scene in the center of the Red Bull garage.

"I don't actually know, all the women in this team speak up for themselves so..."

Willow replied, as she was waiting for Y/n to recollect herself to get back to the conversation. Y/n cleared her throat awkwardly, taking in a big breath to start talking, her boyfriend watching lovingly her every movement. she was about to talk, but was soon interrupted by Claire.

"Daniel stop. you're distracting me, I'm having a conversation"

she suddendly said, making the man look up at her in a confused expression since he wasn't doing anything in the first place, how could he distract her?

"I'm his work wife, eeh"

Claire continued, turning to Willow as she pulled her tongue out in a mocking way. Daniel looked Willow in the eyes in a confused way, he didn't even know what was happening.

"girl, I genuinely don't think he need a 'work wife'. I mean- his girlfriend is right there, they work together, they do everything together. but it's your life, your choice"

Willow snapped a little, the pregnancy hormones getting the best of her. she immediately turned her whole attention to Y/n, as for inviting her to get back to what she was about to say.

"anyway, you know the gender already?"

Y/n asked the pregnant lady sweetly, filling in the little bit of the awkward silence that lifted in the air after Willow remark.

"oh, yeah- we're expecting a beautiful baby girl"

the woman said, rubbing her pregnant belly gently and with her eyes filled with little hearts. Y/n made an 'aww' sound at hearing the news, eyes softening right in the spot.

"you're having a girl? good luck, I could never be a girl mom, I could only be a boy mom. girls are so complicated, so fussy, then the clothes, the make up. bleh- it will probably be another little girl that will have to be carried from woman like me, that keep up our gender pride"

Claire got in the conversation, shocking the pregnant lady and Raven at the same time. this time though, it would not be Willow to snap at her.

"listen, girl- no one asked you to carry anything and I don't remember you talking much during that meeting five minutes ago. and please, I would prefer to be left on the ground than to be carried by someone like you, Claire. another thing before I go, could you stop addressing yourself as my boyfriend 'work wife', is making me uncomfortable and is making him uncomfortable in the first place"

Y/n finally let out, taking my hand in hers and signaling to Willow to follow us if she wanted to keep chatting. she lead the way over to the parking lot, standing right beside my car with her arms crossed over her chest and her sunglasses on her face as she glanced around, not meeting her boyfriend's eyes. a clear sign: she was mad.

Willow and Daniel glanced at each other, as the woman was silently pleading the man to do something to make his girl stop raging like that. the man picked up the sign and approached Raven, gently glazing his hands on her waist and placing them there.

"come on baby, don't let her ruin your mood like that. what can I do to make it better?"

he softly asked, their bodies pressing together as Y/n was leaning on Daniel's car. Y/n looked up at him.

"nothing, babe, it's not your fault"

she said, wrapping her arms around Daniel's waist as their lips gently touched for a second, before Daniel turned towards Raven's ear to whisper something.

"I'll let you do whatever you want to me when we get home, since my princess is such in a bad mood now"

Y/n's cheeks flushed for a second, as she turned towards Willow to make sure she didn't hear a thing, only to see the pregnant lady laughing at her phone as she read a message that she got from her husband. a sigh of relief left her lips as Daniel pulled away from her to at Willow as well.

"Willow aren't you tired? I think I will take my princess home now, do you need a ride?"

he asked unashamed, making Y/n slap his waist in return, but Willow laughed at the situation and shook her head.

"no, my hubby is coming to get me"

she said, a smile splitting her face from ear to ear as her husband pulled up in front of her. the pregnant lady got in the car, waving at the two.

"oh- Y/n, have fun"

#Spotify #ricciardo #daniel ricciardo #danny ricciardo #redbull #redbull daniel #redbull f1 #redbull racing #formula 1 x you #formula one #formula 1 #f1 2023 #daniel ricciardo 3 #daniel ricciardo x you

[f1version]

HAPPINESS.JPG ★ DR3

pairing: daniel ricciardo x fem!reader (she/her)

summary: Danny likes to post photos of you in his .jpg account, here are some of them.

notes: i ♡ daniel ricciardo

lando.jpg version ★ request

daniel3.jpg

Liked by yourusername, lando.jpg and 132,423 others

daniel3.jpg Old camera got a good view

daniel3.jpg

Liked by yourusername, lando.jpg and 201,003 others

daniel3.jpg Fun fact: She is prettier than the exhibitions

daniel3.jpg

Liked by yourusername, lando.jpg and 196,552 others

daniel3.jpg Dress by Taylor Swift



daniel3.jpg

Liked by yourusername, lando.jpg and 210,076 others

daniel3.jpg Got scared by a bug

daniel3.jpg

Liked by yourusername, lando.jpg and 243,091 others

daniel3.jpg SHE’S TOO CUTE

daniel3.jpg

Liked by yourusername, lando.jpg and 398,126 others

daniel3.jpg She got me absolutely screwed

daniel3.jpg

Liked by yourusername, lando.jpg and 251,287 others

daniel3.jpg Happy Birthday, baby. I love you.

daniel3.jpg

Liked by yourusername, lando.jpg and 305,145 others

daniel3.jpg Her smile compliments mine

daniel3.jpg

Liked by yourusername, lando.jpg and 452,613 others

daniel3.jpg That’s my breakfast, lunch, and dinner. I know you’re jealous!

daniel3.jpg

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daniel3.jpg Happiness.jpg

#‎ “ ࣭⸰ ★ my writings ! #dr3 #daniel ricciardo #danny ric #daniel3.jpg #danny ricciardo #daniel ricciardo drabble #daniel ricciardo blurb #daniel ricciardo imagine #daniel ricciardo fluff #daniel ricciardo social media au #daniel ricciardo x reader #daniel ricciardo x you #daniel ricciardo x y/n #daniel ricciardo fic #daniel in redbull #f1 daniel ricciardo #f1 #f1 fic #f1 social media au #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #formula 1 #formula one #f1 instagram au #f1 smau #f1 2023 #f1 fanfic

[a-person-7002]

IT WASN'T RICCIARDO'S FAULT. Istg if I see anyone saying something like "this proves he should be replaced" or whatever... truly just bad circumstances.

#formula 1 #f1 #formula one #f1 2024 #china gp 2024 #daniel ricciardo #danny ricciardo #ricciardo stan