- come out and play.
┈⋆⭒ daniel ricciardo x fem!reader [3.1k]
┈⋆⭒ part 1 !
.𖥔 ݁ ˖ ⎯ find all parts here !
.𖥔 ݁ ˖ ⎯ contents: none.
.𖥔 ݁ ˖ ⎯ backround: Dylan tait. Born in Melbourne, Australia, moves to London to study at London University in her final year, upon moving she acquaints herself with none other than Lando Norris, meeting in a nightclub in downtown London and becoming fast friends. This story will tell the events that soon unfolded as Dylan lay her eyes on the driver from Perth for that first time sitting on Lando's couch that one day, looking at everything but her and the feelings and discourse that follow as Daniel finally looks back at her. based at the time in which Daniel was in McLaren.
.𖥔 ݁ ˖ ⎯ a/n: you don’t meet daniel this chapter. apologies.
.𖥔 ݁ ˖ ⎯ disclaimer: I try to make my writing as realistic as possible, but sometimes as a writer I get bored with the plot myself, so ignore it if there's a few potholes. im not Jane Austen this is filth and sadness and angst and love, so much love and thank you.
your first days at University College of London were oddly isolating, even more so than you had originally imagined, moving across the world. the atmosphere was chilling in the January air and you were posed with the thought that you didn't entirely know what you were doing here. you pulled your jacket tighter around yourself, both hands in your pockets as you reach around your self. you knew you had moved across the world slightly to get away from your parents, though you had no real excuse as to why you had despised them such. it was simply that you thought they had grown sick of you, and you of them. the space would be good for everyone. a mutually beneficial endeavour you thought. the obscure course you were studying, (philosophy, politics and economics), was what your father had called. "a course for rich people" and a "dead end". his words had only seeped so far as you were convinced this is what you were good at, this wide range of worldly thinking, you'd tried medicine, you'd tried law. you were good at both, but they were not good to you. so you had ended up with this. entirely interesting, entirely consuming, but entirely open-ended. what would you do once this was over, it was entirely unclear. would you be an author, a journalist, a politician. would you be anything? the train of thought was endless and yet came to a halt before any real conclusion could be made by you. you'd always been the person who enjoyed school, enjoyed the learning and you wanted to stay at uni to excel in everything. but you weren't too sure if that was simply because you possessed a fear for the "real world".
"Dylan-Dyl"
your eyes snap up to the person saying your name. your only friend at this place, you'd thanked god that she was finally here. shed moved before you and you'd met her over here. she was living off campus, like you and you much too quickly agreed to getting a place to split the rent. grace black, increasingly your other half and your current favourite person ever to exist.
"my dear grace" you exhale quite dramatically (sarcastically), putting a hand on your heart, acting as though it were aching without her.
you put an arm over her shoulder and make big strides to catch the tube back to your apartment. it was friday and you hadn't had a welcome party for yourself yet. you'd needed alcohol, regrettably, ever since you'd heard any single man in your class say anything regarding gender within politics, which truly made your brain hurt and your nose screw up in plain judgement and disgust. yes alcohol and music and warm bodies and dancing would do you good. you were also a fan of an English accent and if any men were getting as drunk as you planned to tonight you were looking forward to hearing your name coming from an accented mouth.
your apartment was small but your landlord was a sweet little old lady who made tea and biscuits and thought it was adorable you and grace being friends for so long and both coming to London and it was in a good spot. getting changed was always an ordeal, drinking cheap Prosecco and throwing clothes around at each other, trying on outfit after outfit. the balance between class and college student was integral to the 'clubbing' experience. once you finally settled on an outfit it was 11pm and you were feeling slightly fuzzy.
faulted by the cheap and hastily drunk Prosecco. you'd just hoped that Saturday would be enough to overcome the hangover as you needed to go in for work on Sunday. grace was secretly rich and by secretly you meant quite loudly. it was no secret her parents, unlike yours paid for everything shed ever done and hence when sending her to London gave her an absurd monthly allowance, which you shamefully benefited from. so when she pulled you into a much nicer looking club, you'd tried to drag her to the much less nicer one down the street. but she had insisted you'd go here, telling you that it just looked swanky and the drinks weren't even "that expensive". you'd see about that, as you ordered a vodka lime soda and it was 12 POUNDS. christ, you'd have to rely on flirting and batting eyelashes because if you vowed to get as drunk as you'd wished, you shit your whole three years of full time work down the fucking toilet that way.
you found grace, drink in hand and standing next to the place looking up at the DJ booth, holding your drink up and dancing to whatever kind of remix the DJ seemed to be playing, his face was distorted the red lights and the angle in which you were looking at him but he seemed oddly familiar. you were just happy the music was loud enough to feel and that finally the air was warm and moving and not cold and still. a complete juxtaposition to the chilling, academic, gloomy university experience of the past week, coming from Australian summer would always serve as a shock. you'd successfully downed 4 more drinks coming from 4 different very suspiciously nice people and grace had find a girl that she was ogling and pretending not to, stating she wouldn't leave you on your "genius party night occasion". you'd ushered her away, in a drunken haze stating that you would take over the DJ booth and that you would play a song so she could kiss the girl shed been staring at the whole night. you moved towards the booth, shouting if you could "take over" and "its an emergency" the man next to the man with a cap, looks over at you and laughs and nods towards the secuirity man with the rope. leading you up the stairs and coming face to face with the respective compulsive DJ's. an unnecessarily ugly word. you exchange hi's and hello's and then the guy with the cap asks.
"so what's the emergency?"
"emergen-? OH"
"uh yes well the emergency is that my friend" you point to grace in the crowd, squeezed next to the girl who you planned to second handedly kiss in the next few minutes.
"has been staring at that girl all night but hasn't done anything because she didnt want to leave me alone on my very apparently special night" you motion inwards at yourself.
"thus. I am here as a hero to save her"
they laugh and step back, gesturing to the audio mixer. you had no idea how †o DJ and also no idea how to even find the song grace had requested.
you step forward, but turn your head slightly over your shoulder.
"names?" you'd ask for their names before you embarrassed yourself like this.
"max" the man who ushered you up the steps says.
"max" you repeat to him. and then nod towards the man with the cap.
"lando" he says.
"lando" followed by a slight giggle.
"okay lando and max I don't know what the fuck im doing so if you show me how to play a song then ill be on my way."
"what's your name?" lando asks
"Dylan"
"Dylan, move over" as he slots in next to you and plus with whatever the fuck was causing the music to do whatever the fuck it was doing. you whisper to him the song grace wanted and he tells you as he's doing it what some of the buttons do, you're not paying attention as such, the vodka sinking into your blood, eyes getting heavier, head getting lighter, your smiling in an uneasy way.
"your smile is really fucking creepy"
"shut up, all I've had tonight is strangers vodka limes and a bottle of 4 pound Prosecco you're getting creepy"
"hmmm" he nods at you
"hmmm" you squint your eyes and nods back.
your looking back out at your audience now, and you find grace finally. and she's, KISSING HER YES.
"FUCK YES, LOOK"
"what"
"LOOK" you grab his face and turn it towards grace and point.
"oh it worked"
"oh im a genius, she was right I should have a party for it every week"
"you're not a genius im just a great DJ"
"oh no but you see mr DJ I have 2 degrees already I am a genius"
a lie as you had finished neither of them, but you were drunk.
"shit how old are you" he leans in
"how old are you" you poke his chest.
"21" your head pulls back in slight shock
"christ you're a child my god, do you even have pubes yet? a degree?"
"oh and how old are you?"
" im 24 bald man"
"shut up I have pubes"
"yeah okay thank you mr DJ, its been fun"
"I don't have a degree though" he trails off.
"eh university is overrated anyway"
"really?"
"no" you pop the p and you weren't lying you needed to learn and you loved the routine.
"are you Australian?"
"did the no give me away"
"yes and you sound like the only other Australian I know"
"yes I am, im from Sydney, proud to be the 2nd Australian you know."
"should be, starting to like you better than the English"
"WE ARE" "I swear im not this patriotic when im sober"
"sure. would you let me buy you and your friend and her friend a drink?"
" oh so your rich, why of course wouldn't pass up on free alcohol."
you walked down the stairs meeting max at the bottom and found grace and her friend who introduced herself at "Jane" to you all. and you sat at the bar and talked for the next two hours. the lights were less intense and the alcohol was flowing through you, making all this conversation shamelessly easy. lando and max were funny and grace was the perfect following act, knowing just when to punch in while staying completely enamoured with jane.
"do you two just act like you hate each other all the time" you're speaking to max and lando who seem to be bickering 90% of the time.
"yes" they look at each other while they answer and you laugh.
“is that fun for you guys?”
they look at eachother again “yes”
before you look at the man standing above lando in the seat beside you. you look up at him before lando even notices anyones presence.
"hi im so sorry but are you lando Norris?"
you look at max with a look of "what the fuck?" and he ignored you completely.
"hey mate, yeah I am"
"oh my god, uh could we take a selfie?"
he takes a breath and for a minute you're thinking that he’s gonna say something like "no its actually not lando Norris because who the fuck is that" or a simple "no".
but he stands up and takes a selfie and the man thanks him profusely and walks away.
"um" your mouth slightly agape.
"your famous?" you head tilted to one side with the question.
"I guess"
max interjects "he's faking humble, yes he's famous"
"are you a porn star or something why are you so embarrassed"
they look at eahcother and throw their heads back.
"no i’m not a pornstar i just-" he says
"im a formula one driver" he admits
"formula one?" you rack your brain, it sounded oddly familiar.
"OH FORMULA ONE." your eyes widened
"right right right formula one, the car one, lewis Hamilton, champagne, Micheal Schumacher, Ferrari , grand prix, downforce. of course." the understanding was there
"yes that one, wait you didn’t know who I was"
“i thought that’s why you laughed at my name”
"i laughed at your name because i’m drunk, and it’s funny. i knew you looked familiar, i used to watch formula one. after uni started i forgot about it mostly must have missed your debut"
you seem to be speedily connecting dots
"oh yes the 2 degrees miss genius"
"about to be 3" you correct him
max speaks up "oh shit"
grace taps you on the shoulder and asks if you wanna catch an uber home and they could drop Jane back on the way. in a weird train of thought you vow you'd find your own way home and give her a nudge and a wink that you'd give her enough time with Jane to ........
she incessant but you reassure her that you'll stop drinking soon and text her on the way home, you have a key. lando says that he could even get in the uber with you, if that makes grace feel better.
you talk with lando and max for a bit longer after grace leaves, until at least 3am, in which max brings up the prospect of leaving. you do take the boys up on their offer getting into the uber with you,
threatening them that if they were to do anything harmful,
"I know who you are no lando Norris and max fewtrell, be nice"
chatting and laughing drunkenly all the way home, in fact much too drunk to remember he's a formula one driver and has a lot more money that your tiny flat above the home of an old lady with 4 cats. the car pulls up and before you get out lando catches your arm and says,
"can I get your number?"
you smile and take his phone.
"if your ever DJ-ing again, either of you" making sure to include max as you didn't want to make anything awkward, and that moment you liked lando, but purely in a friendly way. albeit sadly.
"call me and ill come running, well me and grace"
"as long as your paying for drinks again"
"never again" max pipes up
"hmmmmmm, bye bye mr famous and mr everyone sucks but golf"
you close the door, walk up the small stairs the front door, watch as the car drives off and unlock the front door, going inside, using your phone torch to navigate your way to the fridge. downing 2 litres of water, an electrolyte shot and the leftovers from last night. you go to sleep when the headspins stops and you don't ignore the 2 sleeping figures where usually only grace would lie.
unknown number:
3:46am
💬 everything good? didn't trip on the doormat or on anyones vomit?
you squint reading the message and remember the encounter with lando 20 minutes prior.
4:01am
💬 everything is swell, your heart may rest 😉
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