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#daniel ricciardo angst

love-belle · 9 months

Text

good riddance !!!

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ in which their post break-up era is them pretending that they weren't each other's everything.

for when you're too hurt to regret anything. ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚

social media au // daniel ricciardo x fem!reader

warnings - language

author's note - hello!!! i hope u like this one!!! thank u so much for reading, i love you <3 just a note, that i will probably not be posting next week bc i have exams but i will be active here so ! if u message me, i'll probably reply, i hope so anyways lol <3

≡;- ꒰ °twitter ꒱

≡;- ꒰ °instagram ꒱

liked by landonorris, lilymhe, carmenmmundt and 779,617 others

yourusername taylor was so right when she said "oh my love is a lie" bc fr love IS a lie

7,927 comments

username she gets it

username oh this speaks VOLUMES

username bestie u should've just tagged him at this point

username i will never be getting over them u don't get it they were my PARENTS

username girl is heartbroken but still slaying

*liked by yourusername*

username i miss u and danny so much 💔💔💔💔💔💔

lilymhe kids remember to drink rat poison before you fall in love because it never works out!!!

-> yourusername so true gf

-> alex_albon ???

-> lilymhe no babe look away

-> username poor alex omg 💀💀💀

username TAYLOR SWIFT ALWAYS RIGHT

*liked by yourusername*

username im a child of divorce what the fuck

username hits different ://///

username the highkey shade 😭😭😭

landonorris we miss you!!!

-> maxverstappen1 who's we

-> yourusername i will steal jimmy and sassy again don't test me maximus

-> maxverstappen1 for fuck's sake that's NOT my full name

-> yourusername ok maximus.

-> username OH THANK FUCK 🙏🙏🙏 i genuinely thought her friendship with everyone would be all fucked up but im so happy to see this ❤️❤️❤️

-> username they're so precious to me

username missing daniel is the comments simping for her 💔💔💔

username "love exists bc u exist for me" IM CRYING WHAT THR CUCK

-> username how'd we go from THAT to this.

georgerussell63 your hobbies include calling me and carmen at 3 in the morning just to say bonjour in weird accents and then hang up

-> yourusername idk abt u but carmen loves me doing that

-> carmenmmundt can confirm 😘

username nah bc what'd daniel do so bad that y/n started doing STUFF

-> username IM SAYING LIKE 😭😭😭

username missing her in the paddock sm omg ://

username praying she's at the next race 🙏🙏🙏

≡;- ꒰ °instagram ꒱

liked by lewishamilton, carlossainz55, pierregasly and 782,526 others

danielricciardo good riddance.

8,626 comments

username PAUSE

username reverse whatcthebfuck

username daniel babe what.

username no bc if i was y/n i would cry maybe that's just my sensitive ass

-> username definitely not just u bc i would SOB

username OH MY GOD

landonorris don't act like i can't hear you singing sad songs to yourself

-> danielricciardo LEAVE ME ALONE

username nah bc what the fucj

username i don't like it one bit 🫤🫤🫤🫤🫤

username NOT MY PARENTS FIGHTING

username love is not real bc if they didn't work out then there's absolutely no hope for me

username i feel so bad :////

charles_leclerc you're lying

-> danielricciardo no i'm not

-> charles_leclerc yes you are, i can see you wipe away your tears

-> danielricciardo STOP EXPOSING ME

-> username PLEASE OH MY GOD

username "good riddance" what if this was my last straw.

username i know he's gasping for air rn knowing he lost a bad bitch like y/n

username ahahahahaha!!! im so okay!!!!!!! just fine!!!!!!! idc abt this!!!!!!!! (im losing my mind)

username someone take away y/n's phone before she sees this PLEASE

username my heart's breaking wtf

username remember when daniel and y/n posted about each other with WHOLESOME captions??????? good times

-> username those were the highlights of my entire week like ://

-> username i miss my mom and dad sm 💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔

maxverstappen1 nice

*liked by danielricciardo*

username i know max is maaaaaaaaaaad

username the f1 gc is blowing up as we speak rn

-> username real like y/n is like their baby sister 😭😭😭

≡;- ꒰ °text messages ꒱

kelly's bf 👎 - max ; cat stealer ❌ - y/n

cat stealer ❌ : max

kelly's bf 👎 : what

cat stealer ❌ : is kelly with u

kelly's bf 👎 : she's out with p

kelly's bf 👎 : what happened

cat stealer ❌ : just wanted to talk to her

cat stealer ❌ : it's okay, just tell her to give me a call whenever she's back :) tell sweet p i love her and i miss her sm

kelly's bf 👎 : will do

seen 1m ago

kelly's bf 👎 : hey you okay?

kelly's bf 👎 : i saw what daniel posted

kelly's bf 👎 : it's a shit move just saying

kelly's bf 👎 : he's stupid

cat stealer ❌ : yeah idc lol

cat stealer ❌ : "good riddance" ok boy u literally begged me to make it work

cat stealer ❌ : i'm sorry ik he's ur best friend

kelly's bf 👎 : yeah but so are you

cat stealer ❌ : WOAHHH PAUSE

cat stealer ❌ : max being nice for a change?????

cat stealer ❌ : history was made

kelly's bf 👎 : don't make me take it back

kelly's bf 👎 : but yeah

kelly's bf 👎 : don't pay any attention to him, yeah? i'm sure kelly will have a few choice words for him at the next race, along with me. and p probably, she loves her aunt y/n

kelly's bf 👎 : speaking of that, you're coming to the next race right?

cat stealer ❌ : i love u all :// thank u

cat stealer ❌ : and no, i don't think it's a good idea

kelly's bf 👎 : are you sure? you can stay inside the whole time, he won't even see you

cat stealer ❌ : i'll think abt it, im just very overwhelmed rn that's all

kelly's bf 👎 : that's very understandable tbh

cat stealer ❌ : max

kelly's bf 👎 : y/n

cat stealer ❌ : can i ask u something

kelly's bf 👎 : if this is about letting you and kelly give me a makeover, it's no

cat stealer ❌ : we'll convince u someday but that's not what i wanted to ask

kelly's bf 👎 : what is it?

cat stealer ❌ : do u think daniel ever loved me

cat stealer ❌ : like at all???

kelly's bf 👎 : y/n

kelly's bf 👎 : of course he did

kelly's bf 👎 : you were his everything

cat stealer ❌ : then why was it so easy for him to walk out and then say "good riddance"

cat stealer ❌ : he took the easy way out

kelly's bf 👎 : he's a stupid asshole that's all

kelly's bf 👎 : but he truly did love you, he still does. i know i complained a lot, but with the way he spoke of you, like you were truly his everything. it was such a happy site, seeing my two best friends in love

cat stealer ❌ : u called me best friend twice omg

cat stealer ❌ : that's a record

kelly's bf 👎 : shut up

kelly's bf 👎 : my point is

cat stealer ❌ : i need to post something so W

cat stealer ❌ : brb

cat stealer ❌ : kelly's calling me

kelly's bf 👎 : so i was just a placeholder till my girlfriend arrived?

cat stealer ❌ : aw look at u using ur brain

kelly's bf 👎 : this is why daniel broke up with you

cat stealer ❌ : TOO SOON

≡;- ꒰ °instagram ꒱

liked by carmenmmundt, lilymhe, charles_leclerc and 736,826 others

yourusername me looking for my last fuck to give

7,927 comments

username SLAYED

username ATE SO HARD OMG

username MOTHER

username i love her sm omg

username she's winning the idgaf war

kellypiquet pretty girl 🤍

*liked by yourusername*

username IM IN LOVE WOAHHHH

username she gagged him y'all

username I LOVE HER SM

username gf gf gf gf gf gf gf gf gf gf gf gf gf gf gf gf gf gf gf gf gf gf gf gf

maxverstappen1 👍

-> yourusername 👎

-> maxverstappen1 okay fuck you i was trying to be nice

username HER

username iconic

username exes beefing omg 💀💀💀

lilymhe SLAYED

*liked by yourusername*

lilymhe IN LOVE

*liked by yourusername*

lilymhe on my knees pls marry me

-> yourusername let's go bb i'll get u a ring

-> alex_albon oh

-> lilymhe babe LOOK AWAY

username two artworks in one frame

-> yourusername pls i love u 😭😭😭

username MOTHER IS MOTHERING

username i know he's shaking rn

username no bc the way my jaw dropped and the way i gasped why are u so pretty beautiful gorgeous angelic ethereal breathtaking hot fine amazing

username I WENT TO HEAVEN OMG

username just one chance please

charles_leclerc as lando taught me "slayed the house down 🔥🔥🔥"

-> yourusername PLEASE IM HONOURED

username i adore her friendship with the grid 🫶🏼

username ahsuidsjgsjsjsksisjajsdh

≡;- ꒰ °instagram ꒱

liked by charles_leclerc, pierregasly, landonorris and 796,415 others

danielricciardo ignorance doesn't suit you

comments are disabled for this post

≡;- ꒰ °instagram ꒱

liked by francisca.cgomes, maxverstappen1, carlossainz55 and 801,728 others

yourusername honey everything suits me ❤️

tagged danielricciardo

comments are disabled for this post

#f1 x reader #f1 x female reader #f1 imagines #social media au #fake instagram imagines #daniel ricciardo blurb #daniel ricciardo x y/n #daniel ricciardo x you #daniel ricciardo x reader #daniel ricciardo #daniel ricciardo instagram au #daniel ricciardo imagine #daniel ricciardo angst #daniel ricciardo au #f1 instagram au #f1 imagine

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old-lorarri · 6 months

Text

꒰꒰ ‧₊˚𝐅𝐔𝐂𝐊 𝐔𝐏 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐅𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐃𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐏 ─ 𝐃𝐑𝟑 ˚₊· ꒱꒱

─ summary . . . ❨ there was no way that they were just friends and the internet was waiting for the day that they would admit it ❩ ─ pairing . . . ❨ daniel ricciardo x fem! depp! reader ❩ ─ genre . . . ❨ social media file ❩ ─ author note . . . ❨ this fic is a celebration of daniels points in mexico cuz he placed in the top 10 in a fucking tractor how fucking sexy of him anyway enjoy! ❩

❨ taglist | masterlist ❩

yourinstagram . 6hrs ago

seen by lewishamilton landonorris 32,564,648 others

yourinstagram

liked by danielricciardo maxverstappen1 43,435,768 others

yourinstagram a long long frying pan ago

view comments

user PARENTS

user and historians called them best friends....😭😭😭

user now you can't look at these picks and honestly say that they are just bestfriends 💀

user for my mental health PLEASE JUST GET TOGETHER ALREADY

user these mf have the audacity to go in couples and still present to be "just friends"

user their costumes should have been just friends t-shirts liked by landonorris yourinstgaram danielricciardo maxverstappen1 lewishamilton charles_leclerc carlossainz55

view more comments

yourinstagram . 1hr ago

seen by sebastianvettle lewishamilton 23,578,367 others

─ requested by . . .

anon ─ danny ric x friend to lover!reader you both have feelings for the other but don’t want accept it because you think it would ruin the friendship

anon ─ hey! Could you do a Daniel or Fernando age gap smau with either nepo baby reader of a f1 principle or celebrity

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lorarri · 11 days

Text

★ . . . 𝐈 𝐎𝐍𝐋𝐘 𝐃𝐀𝐓𝐄 𝐂𝐎𝐖𝐁𝐎𝐘𝐒 , 𝐃𝐑𝟑

summary , taking the reason off has done daniel some good as he now shows it and his cowgirl girlfriend off at his home grand prix, and laughing at mclarens downfall

pairing , daniel ricciardo x fem! gf! texas cowgirl! reader

main masterlist | f1 masterlist | daniel ricciardo masterlist

yourinstagram

liked by maxverstappen1 danielricciardo 25,798,827 others

yourinstagram btw this is danny's hat

view comments

danielricciardo dass my baby

danielricciardo never looked better ❤️ ⤷ user danny ric Y/N stan first f1 driver second ⤷ danielricciardo always

danielricciardo god you look so hot ⤷ maxverstappen1 mate you've hyped her up enough save some for the rest of us ⤷ yourinstagram shut up max go get kelly to complement you since you want praise so bad ⤷ user girlie went in 😭 ⤷ user nah that's a violation

danielricciardo look people my gf's wearing my hat 🤠 ⤷ user the people that get the joke rn: 💀 ⤷ user what's the joke? ⤷ user you don't want to know

user icon

user daniel won fr

landonorris can I wear danny ric's hat? ⤷ yourinstagram no. ⤷ user hahahhaha ⤷ user lando is such a drama starter ⤷ user he def knows the rule ⤷ user not lando and Y/N fighting for danny in the comments ⤷ user I mean I don't blame them tbh

user our favourite cowgirl

user how do you feel about mclarens downfall ⤷ yourinstagram they had it coming ⤷ yourinstagram still love Lando and Oscar though

user best wag tbh

user everyone’s serotonin levels after seeing this 📈

user omg the caption ⤷ user what's wrong with the caption? ⤷ user do yall know nothing about the cowboy hat rule

view more comments

danielricciardo . 15hr ago

seen by landonorris maxverstappen1 and 39,990,994 others

INTERVIEW CLIP :: "I'M A COWBOY NOW" THE LATE SHOW - DANIEL RICCARDO

danielricciardo

liked by yourinstagram brotherone and 67,783,782 others ➻ tagged yourinstagram

danielricciardo shoot your ex day dump before home gp next week

view comments

yourinstagram I know this is meant to be on a Sunday but I'll make an exception for you

yourinstagram god you are so hot ⤷ brotherone shut up please we get it your man is hot ⤷ yourinstagram ain't my fault you 28 and single

yourinstagram are you taken?

yourinstagram god aussie and a cowboy god I lucked out

yourinstagram no one talk to me for the next 24 hours as I recover from danny riding a horse shirtless ⤷ user so real for this

yourinstagram when he looks good in your cowboy hats >>>

user Y/N being the ultimate simp for her man

user nahh danny and Y/N hyping each other up will never not be cute

user god when will it be me

user cowboy danny does things to me that should not be stated in the comments section ⤷ yourinstagram yeah [redacted] [redacted] [redacted] [redacted] ⤷ user this is why I'm obsessed with you

user idk who I want more

landonorris I feel left out

landonorris I thought our friendship meant more to you danny ⤷ danielricciardo sorry mate mrs come first ⤷ landonorris I see... ⤷ user not lando being salty on the main 🤣

user plz one chance that is all I ask for

maxverstappen1 where was my invite? ⤷ schecoperez and mine ⤷ redbullracing and ours ⤷ yourinstagram how about this week? ⤷ redbullracing sounds good ⤷ landonorris wheres my invite? ⤷ yourinstagram not this time champ redbull fam only ⤷ christianhorner can I bring the kids they want to see the horses ⤷ yourinstagram ofc! bring my angel geri as well

user my parents 🥰

user okay we need to know was zak brown's face shot at for shoot you ex day? ⤷ yourinstagram yes ⤷ user your so real for this 😭 ⤷ user zak brown gonna have extra security after this ⤷ user does zak brown even count as an ex? ⤷ yourinstagram ex-boss so he's close enough

view more comments

yourinstagram

liked by danielricciardo christianhorner and 67,783,782 others ➻ tagged danielricciardo

yourinstagram always knew I would marry a cowboy

comments have been disabled

danielricciardo

liked by yourinstagram maxverstappen1 and 67,783,782 others ➻ tagged yourinstagram

danielricciardo always knew I would marry a cowgirl

comments have been disabled

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procrastination-queenie · 7 months

Text

Pairing: Daniel Ricciardo x fem! Actress! Reader.

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

Daniel is your favourite pickle.

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

Contains a short smau at the end.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"You should,"

Y/UserName

Liked by danielricciardo and 173,487 others.

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

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

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

↬danielricciardo omw 🏃‍♂️💨

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

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

FanUser4 We appreciate a drunk girlfriend in love 🤌🏻❤️

landonorris Did she just call you a pickle? 😂

↬maxverstappen1 I'm intrigued 👀

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

FanUser5 not Daniel actually taking the pet name seriously 😂

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

↬carmenmmundt George, you hate pickles. 🌚

*danielricciardo liked your comment*

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thef1diary · 3 months

Note

Hii can you write an angsty fic with Daniel with these prompts: "Just play along, please!" & "I can't do this any longer, I just can't!"

Play Along | D. Ricciardo

Summary: You were in a fake relationship with Daniel, and inevitably, you started to fall for him. Unfortunately, those feelings weren't returned.

Warnings: angst, Daniel is a sweetheart and an asshole at the same time, heartbreak.

pairing: daniel x fem!reader (established fake relationship)

wc: 2k

thef1diary 1k celebration

Daniel walked over to your side and opened the car door, then extended his hand for you to accept. Once he helped you out, he closed the door behind you but didn't move a step away.

His hand came up to your cheek, the roughness of his palm only making you blush. You were easily mesmerized by simple eye contact, especially whenever he looked at you like you were everything to him.

Then, he slowly closed the gap between you, placing a short but sweet lingering kiss on your lips before moving to your cheek. "Daniel," you muttered, completely confused by his actions that you almost forgot to kiss back.

Bringing his lips closer to your ear, he whispered, "cameras are watching, pretend like you're in love with me."

Of course. That's where the affection sprouted from. You managed to put a smile on your face but you couldn't pretend to love him. It wasn't an act on your side anymore, you had already fallen for him a few weeks ago but he had no idea.

Daniel moved away, but offered his arm for you to hold, an action that only made others think you two were truly together.

Your relationship, or rather the contract, started a year ago. It was pretty straightforward, Daniel needed someone to play the act of his girlfriend, and you needed money. You didn't think much of it when you signed, only focusing on the amount you earned monthly which was more than enough to live comfortably. It was a win-win situation.

Before signing, Daniel took you out for coffee casually as one of his requirements was to at least be with someone that he would get along with. Even though you quickly found out he was one of the kindest and friendliest person you met, you never thought that you'd be the one catching feelings.

It was one of the rules he was adamant on, among multiple others. "You won't fall in love with me right?" He asked making you almost choke on your coffee then burst out laughing.

However, he didn't laugh at all, which was very unlike him. "Oh you're serious?" You asked, composing yourself. He nodded, "we can be friends sure, but I can't give you anything more than that so don't expect it."

"I won't, this is just a contract, a business transaction even," you stated, not knowing how much you would regret those words.

His arm was placed on your lower back as you entered the banquet hall. Truthfully, you had no idea what the event was about, only knowing that Daniel was a respected guest. He had invited you as his plus-one, and frankly that's all he needed from you.

Daniel was introducing you—as his girlfriend—to some of the important people of the night. But all you could focus on was the way his palm rested on your back, the heat noticeable through your dress.

When he spoke your name, you finally focused on the conversation happening in front of you. "Sorry?"

He chuckled at your confusion, "do you want to tell them the story of how we met?"

You two had a good story memorized, exactly for a moment like this whenever someone would ask. But, you started thinking about how different your lives would be if it were true.

"We met at a café, I was just trying to enjoy my coffee but he tripped over his own feet right next to me," you spoke, making Daniel's eyes widen because that wasn't the exact version of the story you agreed upon.

He still laughed and played along, like he always does. "Some could say I tripped just to get your attention." You playfully slapped his chest, "and you say I fell first but you did, quite literally."

"You might've, but I fell harder, quite literally," he let out a boisterous laugh at his own joke and you couldn't help but join him.

For a short moment, you forgot that there were people around you. But then again, the only time Daniel was this flirty with you was around others.

"That's adorable," the person who you didn't remember the name of said. You tuned out of the conversation again as it didn't include you anymore.

Once again, Daniel nudged you but this time the other person walked away but you didn't exactly remember when. "Is everything okay?"

You nodded but he didn't believe it. "Are you sure?"

"Yes, Daniel, I think I just need a drink." He smiled, "it's an open bar, let's go get one." He didn't focus on the fact that you didn't use his nickname like you usually did.

After ordering the drinks, he stood facing you, a smile on his face but you knew him well enough to know it wasn't genuine. At least not in this fake situation.

A few other people came up to Daniel for short conversations, and as you watched him laugh, you thought of how your last year was spent with him.

Daniel followed through on his promise of becoming friends when he showed up at your apartment one day with takeout bags in his hands, because you mentioned that you were really stressed lately.

While you didn't end up getting any work done that night, Daniel kept you company and diverted your mind away from all the stress. You remember how your stomach hurt the next day with how much you laughed.

Other times, he would spoil you. Despite the fact that he paid you for the act, and that too was a lot of money, he still bought you anything you wanted.

It started with going shopping with him, and he would carefully keep an eye on your likes and dislikes. Once he was confident in his choices, he would send you gifts even if he wasn't with you.

On your birthday, you were surprised with a large bouquet of roses, with various pieces of expensive jewelry. A few weeks before your birthday, you and Daniel went shopping and while you loved each piece of jewelry, you didn't end up buying it.

Unbeknownst to you, Daniel went back a few hours later to buy every single bracelet, necklace, and anything else you showed any sort of interest in.

After all that, spending time with him, you started seeing him more as a lover than a friend. The day you acknowledged that thought, you knew it would hurt to leave.

It seemed like zoning out was a habit of yours tonight, because Daniel had to call your name twice before you heard him.

"Are you sure you're okay?" He asked, showing a hint of worry in his tone. You looked around the ballroom, watching a few people dance while others were huddled together in small groups to converse.

You turned your gaze back towards him, "this is kind of boring, sorry, I'm just not interested anymore."

Instead of judging you, he nodded, "it is, do you want to leave?"

"What?" Your confusion made Daniel look at you with amusement present in his eyes. "We've been here long enough so we can leave. I'm craving fries and a burger anyways." He spoke casually.

Waiting for your response, Daniel brushed a strand of hair behind your ear, letting his palm rest on your cheek for a few seconds too long.

"Daniel," your own hand rested on top of his, and when you made direct eye contact with him, that's when your restraint snapped.

"We can stop by that one fast food place you like," he added to convince you but he had no idea of the inner turmoil that you were burdened with, finally becoming too much to handle.

"No, I can't, I'm sorry," you spoke, confusing him but you didn't wait for his response. Moving his hand away, you swiftly walked towards the exit.

Daniel wasn't too far behind, calling your name but you couldn't listen to him anymore. His voice was too sweet, too full of confusion, and you really wanted to go back. But you knew if you continued the act, you wouldn't be able to stop.

As soon as you were outside, under the night sky, Daniel rushed towards you and grasped your hand to stop you. "What's going on?"

You ran your free hand through your hair, trying to figure out the right words to say. "I'm sorry, Daniel, I can't do this anymore," you started.

"Do what?"

"Act. I can't pretend to be your girlfriend anymore, I know we had an agreement but I'm backing out now," you stressed, and Daniel held your other hand or else you would’ve been pacing back and forth by now.

"You can't leave whenever you feel like it. Just play along, please!" He responded, trying to understand what the reasoning behind your decision could be.

You shook your head, "I can't do this any longer, I just can't."

"Why not?" He finally decided to ask. You hesitated because you knew it was time to tell him the truth. “Because I'm in love with you, Danny, and we need to stop pretending before I think it's real on your end too."

Daniel's mouth opened and then closed, as he didn't know how to respond, "but-" he tried but you were quick to cut him off. "Is it?"

"What?" He asked, making you sigh, "is it real for you too?" You forced the words out, but when he didn't have a response, your heart broke.

This time, it was all your own fault. You knew he didn't feel anything for you, not like you felt for him, and by asking if he did, you were only setting yourself up for heartbreak.

"Exactly," you stated once the silence hung in the air for a few seconds too long. It felt suffocating, but you had to continue, "you told me that I couldn't fall in love with you, but I did. That should be enough of a reason for you to let me go."

Daniel couldn't find the right words, and you assumed it was because he couldn't disagree with you. He couldn't tell you that he loved you, he didn't, so he didn't say anything at all.

"I'm sorry. You're a good guy, Daniel, a great guy in fact, and I'm sure that you'll find someone else who's willing to play along. Someone who won't fall for you."

The harsh wind blew your hair, and perhaps you could lie to yourself and claim that the wind was the reason your eyes teared up. But, you knew better.

You looked at him once more, and right before a tear finally slipped out of your eye, you turned away. You didn't want to cry in front of him, even if he was the cause of it.

He found his voice, and called out for you. "Can I at least drop you home? You're gonna fall sick."

You smiled, but he couldn’t see your face so he didn’t notice how it didn’t reach your eyes, "no, thank you,” you spoke loud enough to the empty space in front of you. Your decision was final.

Daniel didn't watch you walk away, he turned in the other direction once he realized you weren’t coming back. He walked towards his car, as there was no reason to stay at the event without you. There would be too many questions and he wasn't ready to deal with that.

Especially not when he just found out that you were in love with him. He didn't know what to think, so he decided not to think at all.

Turning up the music to an unbelievably loud volume that prevented him from listening to his own thoughts, he drove away. While he wasn’t constantly thinking of you, the thought of you remained in the back of his mind, knowing that it would come forth to haunt him in a few days.

#di celebrates #f1 fic #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #thef1diary fic #daniel ricciardo x reader #daniel ricciardo fic #daniel ricciardo angst #daniel ricciardo fanfic #f1 angst #angst

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lxclerc · 9 months

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𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 | 𝐝𝐫𝟑

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

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

𝙢𝙖𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩

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high tide came and brought you in

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“honey,” he says and your heart trembles.

daniel.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

you manage a grin. “sure, old man.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“in a few years,” you say.

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

but you were still gone and gone, gone and gone

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

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

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

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

goddamn it.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

these hands had to let it go free

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

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

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

“what are you saying?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

struggled through the night with someone new

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

it was daniel. how can you be so stupid?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“i thought i was over him,” you say.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

you come back to what you need

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“i thought you did that in abu dhabi.”

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

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

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

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

“for closure.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“breakfast.”

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

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

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

this love came back to me

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“you’re here,” he says, unbelieving.

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

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

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

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

he smiles at you and you smile back.

hello, love, welcome home.

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

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#daniel ricciardo x reader #daniel ricciardo #daniel ricciardo angst #daniel ricciardo fluff #daniel ricciardo x you #daniel ricciardo imagine #daniel ricciardo one shot #daniel ricciardo fanfic #formula 1 #formula 1 x reader #f1 #f1 x reader #f1 one shot #f1 fanfic #formula 1 one shot #max verstappen

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discopaddock · 9 months

Text

ALL ABOUT THAT NOSE - DANIEL RICCIARDO

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

WORDS: 1,9k+

GENRE: fluff

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“He's a Ricciardo, isn't he?”

“He is, definitely”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What about godmother? Who is she?”

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

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

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

liked by pierregasly, danielricciardo and 450,273 others

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

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

4517 comments

charles_leclerc My favourite couple on the grid!❤️

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

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

↑ danielricciardo 🥲❤️

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

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

↑ f1wags NO WAY HE DID THAT

↑ dr3love omg hes too much😭😭😭

tchalamet my beloved parents idc

↑ tchalametdaily WELL HELLO THERE T

↑ liochalamet cant believe ur commenting on f1 post timo

landonorris I LOVE THEM WITH MY WHOLE HEART 💓 💓💓

↑ carlossainz55 Honestly same Lando😊

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

↑ ilovef1 one time max speaking facts

sebastianvettel Ahh my favourite people, deserve the best!💝

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

Even though he wasn't participating that year.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It was always about the nose.

liked by yourusername, landonorris and 1,012,567 others

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

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cherry-leclerc · 5 months

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bye bye baby ☆ dr3

genre: angst

word count: 2.5k

inspired by this !

cherry here!... the req was to write about danny boy, but the concept of this was that i was feeling very dramatic, per usual, duh. wrote this today since i’ve had bye bye baby stuck on REPEAT. 2 posts in 1 day, YIKES. enjoy! :)

The ups and downs that take place in your relationship once Daniel is left without an F1 seat.

“What do you mean you’re out?”

Furiously, Daniel unzips his fireproofs as he ties the sleeves around his waist. Rummaging through his duffel bag, he grows more and more impatient. Taking a cautious step forward, you hand him his water bottle. “Thanks,” he lowly mutters as he takes a long sip. He shakes his head as he looks blankly towards the white wall. “They want someone younger. More talented.”

“But you’re talented, Daniel! You’re better than anyone here!”

Letting out a weak smile, he angles himself lower to hug you before pulling away and brushing your hair behind your ear. “No, I don’t think I am anymore.”

That was 2 months ago when news came out that your boyfriend would no longer be driving for McLaren. It was a complete shock, considering everyone loved the bubbly Australian, but it honestly didn’t hurt anyone more than it did you. Often, he would remind you that he was the one left without a seat and that you should be glad you would both have some time to disconnect and be together.

Shaking your head as you munch grumpily on a stack of pancakes, you say, “I love that you’re around - of course I do - but what they did to you was completely unfair. Who in their right mind expects good results for a shit car? That’s their fault, not yours.”

Walking around the kitchen island, he lets out a smile. “Relax, baby. I get it. You don’t want me around.” Narrowing your eyes, you fling a pair of gloves at his chest - from his recent addiction to dirtbiking. Don’t even, you warn. He lets out a sigh as he opens his mouth for you to pop in a bite. Digging your fork on a piece of pancake, you raise your arm up to feed him. He hums at the taste. “I was kidding, but seriously - it’s okay. I’ll get over it. You should, too.”

As much as he said he was doing fine, you knew something wasn’t right. He was hurt; felt betrayed and it did him no good to keep rejecting his feelings. But you didn’t bring up the topic anymore. You knew he didn’t like the reminder of what once was.

Dirt crunches underneath your boots as you walk up to him and Scotty. The Australians are hunched over, trying their best to fix their bikes as they share a bottle of cheap beer underneath the blazing sun. The 29 year old spots you first as he squints his blue eyes at you. You’re up early. You flip him off as you pretend to kick a pile of dirt at him. He comedically raises his arms as he wiggles his brows. “Chloe is looking for you. I think she’s gonna beat your ass.”

He quickly stands up as he blows a deep breath directly to your boyfriend's face. You cringe. They share a quick look before Daniel shoots a thumbs up. “You’re good.” Thanking him, Scotty rushes past you as he hands you his left over beer. Making your way over to the brunette, you take a seat next to him as you spill the remaining dark liquid.

“Isn’t it too early to be drinking?”

“Isn’t it too early to be looking so beautiful?”

You muster a glare. “Don’t change the subject, Daniel.” Avoiding eye contact, he just keeps his tired gaze entertained on an Acacia tree. Bringing the bottle up to his lips, he lets out a low whistle. It’s hot. A cold beer helps. “Right,” you mumble as you flicker your own eyes towards the green tree. You can still spot it - your initials and his engraved. He had done it one evening when he and Scotty had one, too many drinks. He had stumbled all the way to you just to drag you and show you. Because I love you. Even when I’m drunk, I love you like crazy.

“Trees getting old. Might be time to cut it down.”

You flinch at his words. “Can I have a sip?” He raises his brows as he hands you the bottle. You just had one, he tries to joke as he watches the way you chug it down. Drying your lips, you crane your neck to look up at the blue sky. “You never minded sharing before.” He can distinguish the way your voice sounds - as if you’re upset over something he might’ve said - but he knows he hasn’t done anything wrong. Standing up, you hand him back the glass bottle.

“Cut the tree. I don’t care.”

“And to my beautiful girlfriend - you’re everything to me and I love you. Without a doubt, the best birthday present I could ever ask for.” Raising his Coca-Cola can, the brown eyed boy sends you a wink with a bright smile plastered across his face. A face you’ve grown to recognize. The one you love.

Making his way over to you, he throws his arms over your shoulders as he rocks you side to side. You smile against his chest. “How does it feel to be 34? Do you have bad knees already?” He lets out a toothy grin as he slaps your ass. “It’s just a question!”

“My knees are fine. As long as I can still kneel down in front of you - that’s all that matters, no?”

You blush at his words as you jokingly push him away. This only makes him cling onto you harder. Squinting your eyes up at him, you trace heart shapes against his biceps. You sincerely feel the happiest you’ve felt in ages. This is the Daniel you knew like the back of your hand. “I was thinking maybe we can take a trip. Anywhere, really. To celebrate-”

“My birthday?” He beams. “This is why you’re the sweetest girlfriend in the entire world!” No problem, you shyly respond as you pinch his t-shirt in between your fingers. Kissing you one last time, he excuses himself to go welcome some late-comers. Chole zig zags her way over to you as she gives you a side hug.

“How’d it go?”

You sigh. “He forgot. He completely forgot. I don’t think I can entirely blame him - I mean it is his birthday.” The fact that you have to defend him makes the blonde furrow her dark brows. Shaking her head, she hands you a slice of chocolate cake.

“Never in a million years did your guys’ anniversary slip his mind. What a dick.”

But you’re not even listening. You’re too flabbergasted that he cut his cake without you being there with him.

Whether it was a trip to Vermont for his birthday or your anniversary, it didn’t really matter because you loved every second. It’s almost like he needed this break. To do something different that didn’t feel like a forced routine. You went hiking, apple picking, to a million bars that only served barbeque ribs - and you never felt more at peace.

Handing you a bouquet of flowers, he kneels down in front of you. You roll your eyes as you take the colorful peonies from him - though inside you were shaking like a 17 year old getting her first glimpse of love. “What’s this for?” He shrugs as he takes a seat next to you.

“Just because.”

Those were your favorite types of flowers. Intertwining his fingers with yours, you both continue chatting about anything and everything that crossed your mind. As you both pass by a peach tree, he lets go of your hand as he brings up his camera with sudden determination. Stand right there, baby.

Trying to express your happiness as best as you can, you hug your gift close to your face as you smile so wide, your eyes nearly shut.

“You’re mind blowing,” he murmurs as he snaps the picture. He takes a moment to admire you as you jog over to him. Show me! He clicks his tongue. “It’s digital. You’re gonna have to wait.” You pout as you pinch his cheek. Bringing your hand up to his mouth, he presses warm kisses.

“I have something to tell you.” Your heart stops; suddenly filled with nervousness as he smiles with giddiness. What is it? “I’m going to be driving again! I mean it completely sucks for Nyck, but I’m just so happy to get back into an F1 car.”

“Nyck? As in the Alpha Tauri driver?”

He nods. “I got the call last month - a few days after my birthday. Best present ever.” Once again, his words cut you deep without him even noticing. Nevertheless, you force a tight smile.

“I’m so happy for you, Danny. You’re finally getting what you’ve wanted for so long.”

When you both get back to Australia, it surprises you a bit how normal things have stayed. He’s smiling more - if that was even possible - he’s laughing louder, too. Roaming the house, you rub your eyes from sleepiness. Scotty and Chloe share a laugh when they spot you. “And Sleeping Beauty has finally woken. I didn’t think that was possible.” Chloe smacks his chest as she sends you a wink.

“Humor me, why don’t you?” Your gaze flickers across the living room. “Where’s Danny?”

“Outside.”

Sliding the door open, you step out as you try your best to adjust your eyesight to the bright sun. As soon as it does, your stomach drops. You run up to the brunette as you pull the ax from him.

“What the fuck are you doing?”

Startled, he jumps up as he takes his earphones out. “Holy shit. You scared me, don’t do that!” Tears fill your eyes as you analyze the chopped tree. You’re no expert, but even you can tell that there’s no going back. The only result that comes out of this would be for the tree to fall down. Rushing over to you, he checks you everywhere to make sure you weren’t hurt. You brush him off.

“Why would you do this?”

He cocks his head to the side, brown eyes filled with confusion. “I’m so lost, what did I do?” Anger bubbles up inside of you as you force yourself to not yell at him. “You’re okay, so why are you crying? Oh no. Did Scotty wake you up again? I told him not to do that anymore!”

“I’m done.” You wipe your tears as you let out a bitter laugh. “I am so done.”

“What do you mean you’re done?”

“I’m saying I give up! Fuck, I give up. That’s it. You win. I just - can’t.”

He tries to take a step closer but you only distance yourself twice as much. “You’re scaring me. What’s wrong?”

“I’ve tried so hard to understand you, I really did, but I’m just as tired as you are. I tried to ease your pain when McLaren let you go, but you kept pushing me away. I tried to be there for you on days you felt like nothing, but to me you were always everything. I tried to not let you see how much it hurt me when you forgot our 5 year anniversary. I tried to not act like it bothered me when you cut the cake I spent hours baking for you, without me. I tried to not act surprised when I found out you kept the news from me about you returning to F1 for one fucking month. But I can’t try and pretend that you cutting down this tree hasn’t broken my heart.”

“It’s just a stupid, old tree-”

“I don’t think you understand! It may be old and it sure as hell could be stupid, but it was ours.” You grab his hand harshly as you drag him to the other side of the tree. His eyes grow wide. I didn’t remember - I swear I forgot that was even there! You let out a wet laugh as you toss your hair over your shoulder. “You’re hurting me, Daniel. Can’t you see?”

“You’re the one who said I should cut it down. You can’t seriously just be blaming me.”

“And who came up with the idea first?”

He lowers his gaze as he runs his left hand against his clenched jaw. “I’m sorry.” He connects his desperate eyes to your glossy ones. “But don’t say all those things, please. You’re right. I’ve been an awful boyfriend, but no one understands me better than you.” Placing his hands on either side of your face, he lets out soft pants. “You’re everything to me, how could you have possibly felt that way? I love you.”

“Love me like what?” He furrows his brows as he searches for an answer. You scrunch your nose as you push his hands down. “I thought you loved me like crazy.” His stomach churns. “Listen, I love you, Daniel. I love you so fucking much, but even I can see that I’m not you’re happiness anymore. Not the way I used to be, at least. You have other priorities; other plans-”

“No, you’re my priority. You always have been.”

“Except I haven’t. For a moment, you went radio silent. It was a one-sided relationship, but I loved you so much that I stayed. I pushed past it. Then - one random day - your shine came back. You were insanely happy and I thought-” You shut your eyes. You can feel your salty tears trickle down your face. “I thought it was because of me. Now I realize, it hasn’t been about me for a while now. It’s so obvious that the only reason you were cheerful once again was because you got what you wanted. You got a seat.”

“You’re wrong-”

“I’m not.” You let out a shaky breath as you bite down on your lip; a weak attempt to not out loud sobs. “I would have gladly taken part in your pain, but you never let me join you. You never let me get close enough to help you out.” Making your way up to him slowly, you tippy toe as you lean in for a kiss. What hurts the most is that all of a sudden - he’s kissing you the exact same way he did when he first told you that he loved you. He was giving it his all. Pulling away, you let out a low whimper as you feel your chin tremble. Your smile wobbles. “Can’t force something that’s not there anymore, can you?”

Taking him in one last time, you rub his forearm as you gently pat it before you walk away. Daniel feels paralyzed as he watches you go. He’s expecting you to turn around at least one last time and he’s expecting his body to let him run after you, but neither of those things happen.

Hesitantly, Chloe and Scotty make their way to their frozen friend. They had heard the fight, but decided it was best to not intervene.

“She left.”

The couple share a concerned look as they take in the weak tree that was clearly about to fall at any moment. Chloe sighs as she walks away, making a beeline to find you. Though, she knows you better than anyone. You weren’t going to return. And she completely understood.

Scotty takes a step back as he shakes his head in disbelief.

“She fucking loved that tree.”

633 notes · View notes

silverstonesainz · 8 months

Text

august

─── august slipped away into a moment in time... 'cause it was never mine

daniel ricciardo x fem!reader warnings; just sad. 17.8 k words

Everything with Daniel came easy. It came naturally, beautifully, and all at once. It was a good thing.

You met him in August, under the scorching summer sun and bottomless margaritas. Between glasses of mango and lime, you bumped into him. He smiled, you smiled too, and the rest wrote itself. You were drunk– a little too drunk for three in the afternoon, but what was summer for? You stumbled on your feet, toes slipping through the straps of your flimsy shoes as you staggered for your own balance. And in a failed attempt to keep yourself upright, you reached out for a chair but instead found your fingers gripping onto the white linen of his shirt. His hands were quick to find their place on your torso, like it was always meant to be there, like he’d done this a million times before. Daniel helped you find your balance, knees bent so that he’s at your eye level. His smile was sobering, knocking the air right out of your lungs. Thank you was caught in your throat, even if your lips were parted to give them way. But you were rendered speechless.

“You alright?” He asked, the warmth of his hands seeping through the thin material of your sundress.

“Y-yeah.” You finally managed, putting your weight back onto your feet. “I’m alright.”

“Good. I’m Daniel, by the way.”

He let you go, and you missed him. He held his hand out of you to shake, one you gladly take as you tell him your name. He repeated with a smile. You were the first to pull your hand from his. “Could I buy you a drink? As a thank you, for saving me?”

He obliged. And after another strawberry– or was it watermelon? You couldn’t distinguish the details by then. All you could remember is that Daniel sat at the bar with you and laughed at jokes you’re sure made no sense. You have a vague memory of the party ending, of having to bid adieu even if you weren’t quite ready to say goodbye to your new friend. But that’s when your memory goes spotty and the next thing you know you’re waking up in yesterday’s clothes with a pounding in your head. The sun beckons a new day, your last day in Mykonos begs you to fight through your hangover to enjoy your last twenty-something hours in paradise. So you do. You rinsed all your mistakes under the cool water, flashes of honey brown eyes and a smile so wide it hurt your cheeks thinking about it.

Two texts sat waiting for you when you stepped out of the shower.

Unknown 9:19 AM Hey, it’s Daniel. Care to join me for breakfast?

You weren’t sure when you had given him your number, but you silently thanked your drunk-self for doing something sober-you could never muster the courage to do. By then, your friends had already gone on their final adventure, leaving you to recover in the hotel room. You had no plans for your last day, so you replied with a quick sure, and got ready.

Daniel is already sitting at the table when you make it down. He’s seated at the far corner of the hotel restaurant, nursing a cup of coffee as he read something on his phone. The nerves rattled your chest with every step you take, hoping silently that he would look up at you so you wouldn’t have to awkwardly announce your presence. And he did, setting his cup and phone down the closer you got. Hey you he says softly, standing from his chair to greet you with a hug.

He was warm, smelled of rain in the spring, of the happy earth after a downpour. He smelled like a backyard of freshly watered flowers, of home and comfort. You tried not to let yourself drown in it, but you know it would be something you’ll be chasing for the rest of your days.

You sat across from him, allowing small talk of the weather to unravel into a two hour conversation. You talked about work, about your best friend’s bachelorette party– the reason you were in Mykonos in the first place. You told him about your hopes and dreams, the silly ones and the serious ones. And he spoke of the world, of the places he’s traveled, the people he’s met. He made life sound so exciting, He speaks of life so happily, you were almost envious of him. His eyes glistened with every word, every laugh, every ounce of hope you could ever wish for yourself.

“So when do you leave?” Daniel asked, sipping on his water.

You blew out a sigh, “Tomorrow morning.”

It was the first time you saw him frown. A deep frown that had his lips curved down and brows furrowed. That’s too soon he complained. It was. It was far too soon, but you didn’t have the heart to admit it outloud. So you nodded, a soft hum buzzing past your closed lips as you brought your hot tea up to your mouth.

“Any plans for the rest of the day?” You shook your head. “Would you let me take up your time then?”

You could feel your cheeks turn red, heat rising to the tips of your ears. Daniel smiled, eyes wide and bright like they knew what your answer was going to be. How could you deny him?

Daniel didn’t have much of a plan, but it didn’t matter. You enjoyed his company, you enjoyed the laughter and the way he looked at you. You walked the streets, played tourist with him. You walked in and out of shops, convincing each other you needed this little knickknack and that tacky magnet. And by the end of it, you had handfuls of cheesy souvenirs to remember the day by.

The last stop was the gift shop in the hotel lobby. You followed each other up and down the aisles of the little store, past overpriced snacks and toiletries. Sneaky glances and smiles after catching the other, you and Daniel play cat and mouse throughout the store till you part ways. You found yourself spinning the display of touristy jewelry. Leather straps, tarnishable chains, with beachy charms attached. Flowers, a turtle, even a single wave. You stole a glance at Daniel who looked up at the shirt selections, flipping through the sizes in search of his own. A bit of sadness settled in your chest as you came to realize that the end of your day– of your time– with Daniel was coming slow & torturous. You ached at the thought, biting on the inside of your cheek as you crouch down to get a better view of the adjustable bracelets.

You met him at the register with an exchange of sad smiles. You paid for your stuff, he paid for his. And as you stepped out of the gift shop, your heart lacked a heaviness you had been expecting. The sadness was there, but no dread. You stopped with a soft stomp, turning on your heel to look up at Daniel. He stared down at you with a certain kind of softness, the smile maybe a bit dampened by the incoming goodbyes that you were yet to exchange, but you had an inkling that it wouldn’t be the last time you were going to see him.

“Thank you for today,” You said softly, “I had a lot of fun.”

“Me too.”

Silence. Shifty feet. An unwillingness to say farewell.

You looked down at your small gift bag, pushing around the crumpled receipts to pull out a bracelet. It had black, adjustable straps, looped through dark blue beads. You held it out to him, “For you. Something to remember…”

Remember what? You couldn’t say. But Daniel understood. He took it, ripped apart the plastic and slipped it on. He shook it on his wrist, smiling up at you like a kid who did something right. Then he was fishing his bags until he pulled out his own little gift to you. He held it out in his palm, a silver keychain with a photo of the windmills in the middle of it, uttering the same words you had moments before. Something to remember. You took it with a soft thank you, holding it tight in your fist.

This was it, the impending goodbye, the inevitable end to it all. Neither of you wanted to say it, to end the chapter– close the book.

“I’ll see you soon, yeah?” He asked hopefully, the grip on his bags suddenly tighter.

You smiled. “I’ll visit you in Monaco.”

“I’ll visit you in London.”

“Okay.”

One breath. Inhale. Exhale.

You threw your arms around him, savored the way his own found solace around your middle. You tried to memorize the way it felt to be in his arms, the smell of the fresh rain– the feeling of home. You’d known the man for twenty-four hours and yet, all this came easy. Melting into him, picturing the rain, promises of flying country to country, it all came so easy.

His hands rubbed your sides as you pulled away from him. Safe travels, doll.

You too Danny.

Maybe walking away wasn’t the easiest thing, to turn your back on him while silently wishing he would stop you. You wished you lived in a movie where the guy impeded your travel plans. Because truth be told, if Daniel asked you to stay a little longer, you might’ve done it. But you made it to the elevator all by yourself, turned to catch a final glimpse of Daniel, who stood in the same place you left him. He lifted his hand, waved one more time before the doors shut. You huffed a sigh, tried to turn your focus to repacking your luggage. Your friends were all back in the room, pestering you on your whereabouts. But you smiled, shrugged your shoulders as you let the day behind you play in the back of your mind.

You finished packing most of your things by ten that evening, promptly falling asleep as the exhaustion from walking all day swallowed you whole. Your dreams were filled with fantasies of a boy with curly hair and honey brown eyes, and his warmth engulfing you. It was pleasant, comforting, homey.

And in the middle of all that good, your eyes sprung open. You had a sudden burst of energy, unable to fall back asleep even if your flight wasn’t for another five hours. You tossed and turned, trying to find a sweet spot that would allow you to slip back into a slumber. But to no avail, it’s three-thirty and there was no hope in falling asleep. You sighed, sitting up and reaching over to grab your phone off the nightstand. Your phone pinged. Once. Twice. Thrice.

Daniel 3:32 AM Are you awake? Please say you’re awake

You smiled, biting down on your bottom lip.

You 3:33 AM I’m awake.

Daniel 3:33 AM Good. Meet in the lobby. PJs mandatory.

You’re giddy, slipping out of bed as quickly and quietly as you can. You grabbed your room key and cellphone, slipped on your slippers, before taking the elevator. The doors slid open, revealing Daniel standing in the same place you left him. His smile was contagious, making your cheeks hurt as you took quick steps over to him. He held his hand out, palm facing up as he mocked a bow while whispering a soft m’lady.

You grinned, taking his hand and letting him whisk you away. You walked the length of the hotel beach, up and down, chasing your shadows given by the warm lamps that illuminate your path. Your toes dug into the wet sand, leaving an imprint of yourself with every step. You bumped shoulders with Daniel, exchanged sleepy smiles, all too happy to bask in the other’s company for a moment longer. Finally, Daniel pulled you down on the sand by him, higher up the property, but still close enough to the threat of the tide. The stars glimmered, twinkled down at you.

“Why were you up?” You asked, turning to look at him. You traced the arch of his nose as he stared up at the sky, traced the curls that lay on his forehead. Daniel blew out a breath through puckered lips, shrugging.

“Why were you?”

The question rested in the air above them, leaving the other to assume the answer. Another comfortable silence, accompanied by the ocean coming and receding. Fingers unknowingly inch closer and closer, begging to be laced between each other. But they danced on the sand, pinkies brushing but never linking.

It’s Daniel’s turn to look at you. His turn to trace the curve of your lips, the curl of your lashes, to commit you to memory. “I want to see you again.”

You smiled, coughed a laugh. “I leave in a couple hours Daniel.”

“Yeah I know. But… we could meet again.”

You turned your head. You searched for the joke, for the punchline, the goofy smile followed by light-hearted laughter. But all Daniel did was smile. Lips touching, dimples deep. His eyes read with so much hope, it sent your heart into a frenzy.

“We could.”

He grinned. “We could.”

You nodded, teeth digging into your bottom lip to hide the dopey smile that threatened to peek through.

There weren’t many words exchanged for the remainder of the hour. You memorized the placement of the stars in the night sky, the sound of the tide rolling to and fro. You remembered the night exactly as it was: just you, Daniel, and the world quietly watching.

The fifth hour rolled around, forcing you on your feet. Your hands found themselves in Daniel’s, giggling as you tried to pull him up onto his feet with you. You brushed away the sand, shook out your hair. You looked up at Daniel as he did the same, smiling over at him when he looked at you. The walk back to the lobby was slow, filled with small talk about the weather and travel plans. He rode the elevator up to your floor, walked you to your door, just as a gentleman does. He tucks your hair back, chuckles softly.

“I’ll text you.”

“And I’ll respond.”

He smiled, taking a step backwards, “I’ll see you soon.”

Another step back, and another, and another until he’s at the end of the hall and waving at you. You stood at your door, watching him leave, waving back before he turned the corner and disappeared. You tapped your key against the door, unlocking it and shut it softly. With your back pressed against the hardwood, you exhaled softly. Head in your hands and a hole in your chest in the shape of Daniel. You felt crazy, maybe a little delirious. Another huff, another hopeful sigh as you pushed yourself off the door and got ready to fly home.

The morning flew past you. Between security lines and scrambling to buy some coffee, you barely had a moment to breathe. And when you finally did find the time, all you could think of was Daniel. Of his laughter, the smell of his cologne, the sweet promise to see each other soon. You slipped your phone out of your pocket, a bit disappointed at the lack of a text. But it was half-past seven in the morning, the man must’ve been asleep… right?

You boarded the plane, buckled yourself into your seat minutes before eight. Still not a single text from the Australian. Your fingers hovered above your keyboard, thumbs shaking as you searched for the words to say to him.

You 7:56 AM Don’t forget about me.

And after four hours, when the plane touched down in Heathrow, you took your phone off airplane mode. Notifications come rolling through, emails from work, a missed call from mom, and one text from the man himself.

Daniel 10:05 AM Never

You learned how much Daniel loved Monza in September. He found victory in his despair there, saw the triumphs and falls of so many racers before him. Daniel loved Monza.

Daniel 11:03 AM The energy is great, you should’ve come out.

The invite was on the table, he had asked you two weeks ago if it was something you’d be interested in attending. You should’ve said yes– any sane person would’ve. But you couldn’t, as much as you wanted to see him again, to be able to talk to him in person and just be with him, you couldn’t say yes. You’d never be able to explain it, other than the fact that you were shy, and holding onto a bit of your Mykonos fantasy. You liked living in a world where your friendship was only something between you and Daniel. You liked the bit of distance, found comfortability in it. At least for now.

So you opted to keep up with him through text and the telly. You exchanged messages until he had to set his phone down, then watched each session, each day. Practice. Qualifying. Race Day.

You 12:01 PM Good luck. I’ll be here for the debrief.

The debrief was a series of texts, mostly from Daniel. It’s every broken hope, every could’ve, should’ve, would’ve that ever crossed his mind. It was you trying to console a broken spirit, to reignite something in him that was already dead. He took your words with grace every time, even if you both knew he didn’t believe a single letter of it.

You 12:02 PM You’re gonna do great.

Daniel 12:04 PM It’s gonna be great.

You smiled at the optimism, at least you hoped that’s what it was. You sat back on race day, watched every second of coverage– from the driver’s parade to the pre-race talk. You saw glimpses of Daniel, of the beloved honey badger. And oh how everyone loved Daniel. Everyone rooted for Daniel, to bring glory to a gloriless team like he had just one year prior. Oh how everyone believed in Daniel too, even if he didn’t quite believe in himself.

Daniel loved Monza, even if Monza didn’t love him back.

It was a painful watch, the final lap of the race was coming into view… and then his car sprung a leak. And that was it, that was the end. Goodbye to the glory, goodbye to the hope.

You didn’t expect to hear from him that night, so it was to your surprise when your phone pinged as his name appeared on your screen. You set your little late-night snack aside, leaning back into the couch as you open the message.

Daniel 9:00 PM Wish you came anyways. Would’ve made the weekend worth its while

You smiled.

You 9:01 PM Next time. Promise.

Daniel 9:03 PM Next time <3

Daniel facetimed you for the first time in October. It caught you off guard. You had been exchanging texts with him since you had seen him last, an occasional voice note from you or him, but it was never anything more than that.

You were cooking dinner. Your hair was up in a disarray, looped carelessly through an elastic in hopes to cool your body down from the heat in your kitchen. You had marinara sauce on the collar of your old high school t-shirt, and you looked less than flattering in the maroon basketball shorts from an ex-boyfriend long long ago. But he was calling, his name and face occupying your screen. He was interrupting a video you were watching because he was calling.

You swiped your phone across the screen, holding it up to give a view of your shoulders to the top of your head. Daniel smiled, wet curls stuck to his forehead. He was clad in black hoodie, airpods tucked into his ears. You hadn’t seen him so happy post-race, the string of bad results and over all bad luck had been wearing him down. You knew it, he knew it, hell the whole world knew it. But here he was, smiling like he had won the whole damn thing.

He said your name like it tasted sweet, dripping like honey from his lips. “Did you watch?”

You propped your phone against the towel holder, shaking your head as you do. “No, I was working on a project. I meant to watch the highlights while I ate dinner.”

“What are you cooking?”

“Pasta.” You felt your cheeks heat up. He clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth.

“This is the third night in a row.”

“I just need something quick. Pasta’s always quick!” You defended.

He rolled his eyes playfully, biting back a smile. You saw it in the way his cheeks began to round, lips pursed. “Well hurry up. I’ll be your highlight reel for dinner.”

True to his word, Daniel gave you the brief play-by-play of his race in Singapore, the whopping fifth-place finish– best finish he’s had all year. You listened intently, shoveling penne pasta and red sauce into your mouth. You listened and listened, even if he repeated the same moment over and over, with the same excitement, same enthusiasm like he was back in the moment. There was a twinkle in his eyes, the slight inflection in his tone as the words spilled from his mouth. It made your heart soar for him, it made you happy to see him.

But then someone flipped a switch, the mood suddenly dampened as his eyes trailed off camera and his smile slowly began to fade. You pushed your empty bowl aside, pulling your phone closer to you. “Hey. What’s wrong?”

He sighed, “I just wish it was always like this, you know? Miss feeling this… this good after a race. God and it’s almost ridiculous how happy I am for P5. P-fucking-5. But it feels like I’m on the podium. I just wish I had felt this all year.”

You didn’t know what to say. What was there to say? You couldn’t exactly relate or empathize, and you know that the last thing he needed was your sympathy. He’d been getting sympathy since he had lost his seat, and the last thing he needed was to hear it from you. So you hum, pulling his gaze back to you.

“I’m proud of you.”

“You say that all that time.” He scrunched his nose, a teasing expression almost as if he didn't believe you. .

“Maybe because it’s true.” You snarked back, biting back a smile.

A brief pause. You watched his honey brown eyes dart around the screen, staring at you. At every freckle and beauty mark, surely the smeared mascara under your eyes or the faded color that stained your lips. But he wore a smile, wore a bit of adoration and… god you couldn’t identify what that ‘and’ was, but it was nice.

“Thanks.”

He kept you company for the rest of the evening, even sat on the phone staring at your bedroom ceiling while you showered and got ready for bed. And when you finally rolled into your duvet, hair brushed and skincare, Daniel was snoring softly on the phone. It was four in the morning in Singapore, the weekend had finally worn him down. You only indulged in the serenity for a moment, before whispering a quick goodnight Daniel and hanging up.

He called again when he got to Japan, showed you the tiny hotel room he had in Tokyo, gave you a list of places he and Lando planned to visit.

He called before he flew out to L.A. When he landed. When he traveled to and from and across the States until COTA weekend came around.

Daniel never stopped calling, and you never hesitated to answer.

Daniel gave you a nickname in November. You argued about it over the phone, while you packed your work bag for the following Monday. You had him propped up on your nightstand, phone leant up against your lamp. He laughed at your reaction, the grimace on your face as he called you again.

“Oh come on toots, I think it’s cute.” You shook your head, “Why not?”

“I’m not toots Daniel.” You slipped your new pens into the little pocket in your purse, “Look at me, do I look like a toots?”

He laughed. It’s the kind of laughter that’s from deep in his belly, the kind that fades out a bit with every syllable. He fell back into his bed, sinking into his gray pillow case as he held his phone over his head. He watched you pack the rest of your bag before slipping into bed yourself. It was the first time since meeting him that you were in the same time zone. He was back in Monaco, and you in London where you had always been. There were only two races left in the season. Two weekends left of Daniel in the car.

He was calling more often than not. And maybe you could blame the short break before Brazil and Abu Dhabi, but you knew Daniel a little more than that. You didn’t make a comment about it though, just accepted the opportunity to talk to him more.

You turn in your bed, setting Daniel up against the pillow by you. It was a good kind of quiet, a comfortable silence. The kind that brings about a certain… domesticity to the feel of your home, even if he was just on your phone. You liked having him there, even if really wasn’t there.

“How ya feeling?” You asked softly, pulling the covers under your chin.

He huffed a breath, “It just doesn’t feel quite real, if I’m being honest. My brain knows it’s happening but my heart… I don’t know. It’s cheesy. It’s weird.” You hummed in acknowledgement, shifting a bit in your place. “But it’ll be good. It’ll be fine.”

“It will. It will. You will.”

He smiled, nodded. “But you know what’ll make it better?” You raised your brow, a soft hm buzzing from behind your lips. He grinned cheekily, “If you came and watched me in Abu Dhabi, toots.”

Your heart swelled even if you scowled. Daniel hadn’t bothered to invite you to a race since Monza, which is fine. You were busy with work, and there really wasn’t a break long enough for Daniel to get an invite together for you. And plus, you had already declined him once.

“My family is coming out, close friends too. But the entourage wouldn't be complete if I didn’t have you in the garage.”

You pulled the blanket over your face to hide the way it turned red. And much to your surprise, he didn’t tease. No playful comments or layers of compliments to make your cheeks tinge red. No knowing laughter, or gentle chuckle. Just soft, patient breathing, waiting quietly for your answer. Your heart, however, was beating out of your chest. It was so loud you could hear it in your head. It echoed, bounced off the curve of your skull. You tried to steady your breathing, tried to ease the uneasiness that resides in your chest. It was the nerves, the threat– a mere opportunity to make all this real.

Three months and some days had passed since you met Daniel. Three months and some days had passed since you said goodbye. Three months and some days spent dreaming of the smell of fresh rain, warm hugs, and honey brown eyes. Three months and some days.

“Absolutely no pressure. But it would mean the world to me if you did.”

Seeing Daniel in person would mean that you are more to him than some girl on the phone. It would mean that all this was more than the twenty or thirty something hours together in Mykonos three months ago. Flying out to Abu Dhabi would mean the world to him, and a galaxy to you.

You pulled the covers off your face just in time to see Daniel run his fingers through his frizzy curls. He works his fingers over his head, stuffing it between him and the pillow behind him. The muscles in his arms bulge, stretch the sleeve of his athletic t shirt. You wondered if your cheeks got redder. His eyes move off screen, humming a soft tune that barely makes the airwaves to you, but you can hear it just under his shuffling about. He pulls up the covers, you see the edge of his gray sheet come into view. You watched for a few seconds more, watched him settle into his space, snuggled under the covers, before his eyes come back up to meet your gaze.

He smiled. You smiled. It was nice. It was good.

“So… when do I fly out?”

Abu Dhabi was a spectacle, buzzing with energy for the final race of the season. It was impossible to escape that kind of excitement, even outside of the paddock. You heard the buzz, the excitement of who was going to win the race, even if the winner was already spoken for. You enjoyed the optimism, the smiling faces, the feeling of being there in that moment. It was a last for Daniel for the foreseeable future. You were privy to the toll the last couple of years have been on him, the stress, the sadness, the disappointment at the results he continued to produce. But the end was finally here, his final race in orange before a much needed break. It was sad, but it was good.

The hotel was swarmed with fans, waiting for the opportunity to meet their favorite driver. There were heads of bright orange and red, contrasting against the black and navy. The entrance was crowded with people, it was damn near impossible to get through and check in. But you managed with the help of a young busboy, who complained and pushed through a group of crazed fans. It wasn’t long from there, and soon you were flopping onto the queen bed of your hotel room with a loud sigh. Nearly seven hours on the plane had wiped you out, and if it weren’t for the fact you promised to meet Daniel, you would’ve fallen asleep right there.

But alas, you forced yourself out of bed, stood in the hot shower to wash away the dirty air. You were cleaner, and in turn much more nervous. Have you scrubbed enough? Did the scent of your shampoo stick? Oh god how did you have enough time to do your hair? Will it dry in time?

You couldn’t stomach finding out the answer.

You pocketed air in your cheeks as you paced to and from the mirror to your unzipped luggage. You had overpacked– of course you did– and had about half the items strewn across the floor as you tried and failed to find an outfit worth meeting Daniel in again. A dress seemed a bit much and somehow every single pair of jeans you packed squeezed on your stomach a little more than you’d like. You huffed after the fourth outfit, soured mood as you stepped into sweat shorts and an old sweatshirt from college. You were meant to meet Daniel in less than an hour and you were stuck at square one: your hair a ratty mess, make-up strewn across the bathroom sink (untouched), and your luggage exploding with clothes you suddenly hated.

You stood, stared at yourself in the mirror as you gripped on your hairbrush, running it through tangles and an otherwise unruly mess. You dragged and pulled until your hair was smooth. But even then it wasn’t smooth enough, you just didn’t have it in you to care. Your makeup was dragged across your face. You went through the motions, all muscle memory and not a thought about the colors and products. And even at the end of all that, after getting yourself to look less haggard and have your hair somewhat presentable, you still couldn’t stand to look at the mess you’ve made in your room.

You went back over your options, moving through the motions of retrying combinations, mixing and matching, and then putting them away when you concluded you didn’t like the choice. By the end of the hour, you had gotten your room semi-presentable but were still stuck in your loungewear.

And then there’s a knock.

You scratched the back of your head, a little more nervous and a little more irritated. A soft whine escapes you as you stomped your way to the front door. You yanked it open without even bothering to look through the peephole, mind far from any clue as to who it might even be.

But who else could it be?

Daniel smiled with his hands stuffed into his pockets, Enchante hoodie hanging loosely on his shoulders. His curls sit atop his head, messy, flopped over his forehead. His stubble has grown, or maybe it just appears thicker in person. But he stood there, smiling in the hallway, lips parted and ready to greet you if you had given him a chance.

You jumped into his arms like you belonged there, like a magnet pulled to metal. You held on for dear life, arms wrapped tightly as you stuffed your face into the crook of his neck. He smelled just as you remembered– smelled just like home. Slowly, one arm finds its rightful place around your torso while the other comes up so that his free hand could hold your head securely against him. His hold is firm as he lifts you off your feet, squeezes you so nicely you never wanted him to stop. You could’ve stood in that hallway like that forever, if it was ever an option.

Daniel inhaled deeply. “Oh, I’ve missed you so much.”

“I missed you more.” Your voice seeped into his skin– hot, meaningful, and everything else left in you to give.

He put you down, but you didn’t want him to. His hands come up to hold your face in his hands while his eyes scanned every bit of you. No words, just a gentle hold. You stood there, head heavy in his hands as you stared right back up at him. His tan had faded a bit, his hair much more kempt than you remember. And his hands, oh his hands are rough, loved so well by the life he’s led and yet they move with so much care, so much tenderness. The dim hallway light reflected off his wrist, off blue beads tied together by a black straps. Your heart jumped, warmed at the bracelet you bought him all those months ago around his wrist.

“Looking good toots.”

He laughed loudly as your face contorted into a grimace. Your hands come up to his chest to shove him off, a blow he takes with a grin as he takes a step back. And in succession, his slender fingers wrap around your wrist to pull you back into him.

“I don’t like that nickname.” You swatted his chest, palm and the back of your hand colliding with the soft material of his hoodie, over and over until he’s holding your wrist still while muttering I’m kidding over and over.

You rolled your eyes as you removed yourself from his hold. You invited him into your room, taking quick steps to shut your open luggage before he had a chance to see the carnage of it all. Daniel closed the door behind him for you before he followed your lead into the small hotel room. He plopped himself onto your bed, kicking off his shoes before pushing himself further up. He watched as you folded up the bit of clothes that you had left out sitting on top of your closed luggage before sitting across from him. You smiled, he smiled. Just how it’s always been.

Things sort of unraveled from there. Plans were canceled, phones tossed aside– nothing really mattered anymore. He asked about your flight, you asked about his. He asked about your work, you asked about his. It was back and forth, back and forth, jumping from one bit to the next until three hours had rolled by and Daniel had taken notice. By then you rolled onto your back, hair handing off the bed and legs lounging on top of Danny’s. He’s leant up against the headboard, arms crossed across his middle as he hum contentedly. You looked over at him, reaching over to squeeze his arm.

“Thank you for inviting me.”

His hand removed itself from underneath his arm, placing it over yours. “Thank you for coming.”

November in Abu Dhabi was not as hot as you expected it to be. For once you were grateful for over packing because otherwise you would’ve been miserable and slightly embarrassed by the initial four outfits you deemed as enough for the trip.

You met Daniel’s family on Friday. They were just finishing breakfast when you walked up to the McLaren building. Daniel was quick to stand on his feet, hand resting on the small of your back as he gestured to each family member with his free hand. You were introduced as a friend, shook the hands of his relatives with a tight smile as you went down the line. They were sweet, offered to sit with you while you ate breakfast. But you were quick to decline, having already eaten before getting to the paddock.

There were a few familiar faces amongst Daniel’s friends, if your drunken memory serves you correctly. You were greeted with enthusiastic hellos and semi-awkward side hugs. You stood with them in the garage, arms crossed tightly around yourself as you stood around waiting for the man himself. The garage was chaotic, multiple bodies moving too and from and all at once, trying to ready for the two practice sessions of the day. Your headphones were tuned to the live broadcast, so you spent the next fifteen or so minutes of commentary about Red Bull this and Ferrari that, Max this, Charles that. But then you hear it. Here comes the Honey Badger, about to hop into the car for the first Practice session of his last weekend with McLaren– his last weekend in Formula 1.

Your head turned to look up at the screen just in time to see Daniel smiling at the camera, tuning out the conversation about Daniel between commentators. He waved into the lens before turning to Michael. They exchange a few words, the camera just zooming in before switching back to the Ferrari garage. You avert your gaze back to the present, the bodies clearing to make way for Daniel to climb into his car. The loved driver walks down the line of his friends, exchanging fistbumps and a bit of laughter before finally standing up before you.

You could feel the stares, the careful watching to see what you two were about to exchange? A couple of light hearted jokes? A fistbump? Maybe even a hug?

You tried to ignore it, looking up at him with a smile you hoped resembles the bit of faith you had in him. “Have fun out there.” Your hands fiddled with each other, nervous nails picked at the skin of your cuticles.

“Thanks. I’ll see you for the debrief?”

You blew out a breath, nodding. “Yeah. Yeah, I’ll see you.”

You didn’t see him until after the round of press after both practice sessions, but of course it was only for a fleeting moment. He had his arm wrapped around your shoulders to give you a gentle squeeze as he asked about you– always you. And then, with much reluctance, he allowed you to return to the hotel while he stayed back for another briefing.

Quali day proved to be even more energetic than the last. People moved faster, time ticked louder, and the cars pushed and pushed. You enjoyed the smell of burnt rubber, of the adrenaline that ran through the track. You held your breath for most of the day, eyes trained on the times put up, jaw clenched as Daniel clawed his way to Q3. The air in the McLaren garage is light, happy, hopeful, as the boys stroll back into the garage. Rough pats to the back and loud words of encouragement roll through. Daniel was followed by a crowd of people. They all spoke atop each other, trying to get the last word in and trying to get a response from the driver before he disappeared. But he was already gone the moment he laid eyes on you. He waved the people away. Later, later he mumbled, offering them a smile before speeding up the pace and leaving the people to wait on later. You stood when Daniel approached, allowing him to wrap one arm around you in a quick squeeze.

“Congratulations Danny,” You looked up at him, smiling widely as you leaned into his hold.

“Thanks sugar.” There was a pause, allowing the nickname to sink in before he scrunched up his nose and shook his head. You burst out in soft giggles and he grinned widely. “Somehow that’s worse than toots.”

“Definitely worse.”

Race day was exhilarating. It was a rush, even if you were only sitting in the garage. You had your legs crossed over each other, muscles tense the entire time. You couldn’t relax, not while you held out for a bit of hope in Daniel’s race. Maybe no one expected much from him these days, but you expected nothing short of greatness. You sat in your chair, silently praying that Daniel would find that sweet release, the sweetest satisfaction in that car. You gripped the lanyard of your pass tightly, leant forward towards the screens as if it would make him move faster. You spoke to him, even if he couldn’t hear you through the turns of the circuit.

And then it happened. The checkered flag was waved, the race had been won, the champion continued his reign. The night saw multiple ends, the night closed on the last of the honey badger in McLaren. While everyone jeered for Max, applauded for Sebastian, bid adieu to Nicky and Mick, you held your heart for Daniel. Your eyes watered as he spun the MCL36 in circles, sending smoke and his love to the crowd as they said their goodbyes. Quietly, you slipped back into the McLaren Hospitality, sat around by the door of his driver room as he got done with the last of press. You watched on the screens, like you always do, watched the laughter, the happiness, the adoration exchanged between Daniel and his comrades. All the hugs and see you soons, all the hope every single person held for him and his return.

Daniel was a friend to everyone, beloved by everyone, and that included you. You felt a bit of pride at the thought, but maybe a bit of emptiness at the potential. Daniel was your friend, albeit your best friend. He had become your person, even if you had spent most of your time getting to know him through the screen. But that didn’t negate the fact. It didn’t change the affection you had for him, the adoration and respect you kept for Daniel in your heart. It didn’t change the fact that maybe, just maybe, you felt more for him than you’d ever admit. But that was a little secret between you and your bedroom ceiling.

Daniel returned to you by himself. No crowds of people begging for a second of his attention, no staff reading off his agenda, not even Michael trying (and failing) to make Daniel laugh. He was all by himself, tired, disheveled, shoulders slumped and his face expressionless. You stood at one end of the room of the McLaren Hospitality and Daniel at the other. You stared at each other, unsure what was left to say after everything that happened in the hours behind him.

And then you see it– the water brimming in his eyes, the quiver of his bottom lip. You saw the frown that curved into his lips, the way his chest puffed shakily as he drew a breath. He was stuck in his place, stuck in the sadness that had finally settled in his spirit. So you met him where he stood, arms wrapping around his frame so that he could finally, finally, let go. His hands held you close to his chest, the pads of his fingers pressing into your shoulder blades. He buried his face in your shoulder, squeezing you so tightly that you found it hard to breathe.

“It’s really over.”

You pulled his face from your skin to hold in your hands, pouting as your thumbs collected the sadness that spilled onto his cheeks. Left to right, up and down, you scanned his face– every freckle and wrinkle, the way his bottom lip protrudes in a pout. “You’re gonna be okay. It’s all gonna be okay. It’ll be good. Okay?”

He nodded, head shaking quickly in your grasp as his hands scramble to pull you back into him. He held you like you were going to slip away just as every single good thing in his life had this last year. His hand comes up to the back of your neck, holding firm and warm, as he inhales deeply. “ It’ll be okay. It’ll be good.”

It’ll be good.

Daniel sent you flowers in December.

An arrangement of yellow and orange poppies arrived at your door two days before Christmas. They were waiting for you when you arrived from last minute shopping. You picked up the vase, cradled it in your arms as your keys jingled into the keyhole. The windmill keychain from August twinkled in the dim hallway lighting, reminded you of the day spent with your favorite person.

You set the flowers down on the counter, all other belongings forgotten at your feet. You picked at the small envelope that sat in the middle of the vibrant flowers. Inside, a note– typed, but the sign off was enough to tell you who had sent them.

𝙵𝚘𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚜𝚘𝚗 𝚠𝚑𝚘 𝚖𝚊𝚍𝚎 𝚖𝚎 𝚏𝚎𝚎𝚕 𝚊𝚕𝚒𝚟𝚎 𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚗 𝙸 𝚏𝚎𝚕𝚝 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝙸 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚍𝚢𝚒𝚗𝚐. 𝙼𝚎𝚛𝚛𝚢 𝙲𝚑𝚛𝚒𝚜𝚝𝚖𝚊𝚜 𝙿𝚘𝚙𝚙𝚢.

-𝟹

Your heart swelled. Swelled so big you were sure it was going to burst underneath you. You bite down on your bottom lip, hard, trying to fight the awe-struck– no, lovestruck, smile that creeped onto your face. You tried to swallow those feelings down, just as you had for months now. Forget the butterflies and what they symbolize, or the way you jumped at the sound of your phone pinging or ringing. Forget, forget, forget.

Except that you can’t forget. You can’t forget or ignore or pretend like you haven’t fallen for this… this… for him. It’s not doable, and you had been fooling yourself thinking that if you pretended for long enough, that those feelings would cease to exist. Instead they festered, grew into a monster that held you tightly. In between blue and gray text bubbles, after hour long facetime calls, you found yourself falling for him. It was hard to admit to yourself because you felt silly at the notion that you could feel that way for someone you talked to on the phone. But it wasn’t silly, it was so fucking real. You were consumed by the smell of fresh fallen rain and curly hair, consumed by chasing the feeling of him gnawing at your heart. You were all consumed by Daniel. Him, him, him.

You took a photo of the flowers, sending it as a text.

You 5:24 PM Poppy, huh?

His response was almost immediate.

Daniel 5:24 PM You like it?

You smiled. Smiled so wide your face ached. Daniel was halfway around the world. Fourteen something thousand kilometers away from you. He spent Christmas in the warmth, surrounded by his family while you were bearing it in bitter cold London. Thousands and thousands in distance, and still he makes you smile like he was sitting in the room with you.

You 5:25 PM Love it. Thank you Danny

Christmas came and went as it always does. And in the week between then and the end of the year, Daniel called you. His face occupied your phone screen, that stunning smile plastered on his face. It was ten in the morning on the 27th of December, you were in the middle of a book– one you had been putting off because of work and traveling and enjoying the reality with Daniel in it. So you were reading, but then he called and the passage was forgotten.

He claimed he had no reason to call you, that it was just because. It made your heart do flips, stupidly and erratically beating at the notion just because. You smiled, hummed as a response as you set the book aside. You asked about his holiday, he asked about yours. And just as easily as it has been before, the conversation sprouted into hours on the phone. You had slowly retreated into your bedroom, under the covers, had Daniel propped on the pillow just like he belonged. It was space reserved for him, even if he’s never laid in your bed before. God you left so much room for him in your life, he didn’t even know the half of it. He had become part of your equation, part of every what if that came across your mind– it was truly terrifying.

Daniel quieted around twelve for you. He was sitting back on his couch, phone resting in his palm as he held it up high enough you had a view of his face. His gaze was soft as he stared at you, smiling sweet.

“What?” You asked softly.

“Nothing.”

Another pause in the conversation. A brief moment of silence with an unasked question hanging in the space between you. You almost wanted to pry, but he beat you to the punch– answered the impending what you were about to whine.

“I’m flying back to Monaco for New Years… and I was wondering if you wanted to come.”

You raised a brow. “You miss me?”

“I always do.”

Your heart screeched, cheeks ached with another smile. God you couldn’t stop fucking smiling.

You shook your head, “Silly.”

“Not silly. Just true. Come to Monaco. Please?”

How could you ever say no to him? How could you ever allow yourself to miss an opportunity to see Daniel again?

So on the 29th of December you flew the two something hours to Nice, took the train to Monaco and jumped straight into Daniel’s arms. He held you like it's all he ever knew, arms wrapped so tightly you’re sure you’d be stuck to him even if he let go. Your face is pressed into his sternum, his scent consuming you with a sharp inhale. Fuck, you would never get tired of this.

December 30 was quiet– the calm before the storm. You were glued to the couch, Daniel’s hip attached to yours, while you watched movie after movie. In the first hour your legs were on top of his, then you switched the next hour. After the second movie, you were tucked into his side while his fingers twirled a lock of your hair. Round and round, a semblance to the way your mind circled him. Your thoughts ran in circles around Daniel, about what it would be like to be able to live that reality for longer than the week you were spending with him. You allowed yourself to imagine more Friday’s spent lazily with him.

Daniel looked down at you as the credits rolled. “Thanks for coming out. I haven’t said it, and I should’ve the moment you landed.”

You hummed, leaning into him further. He tightened his hold on you, it made you feel safe. “Anything for you.”

Truly, anything for him. You would do it all, all Daniel had to do was ask.

You woke up later than normal on the last day of the year. You laid in the guest bedroom of Daniel’s Monaco apartment, alone, tangled in sheets that regrettably smell just like him. The sound of glass clinking and heavy footsteps moving about the space travels into your room, muffled by the shut door. And as easily as you fall into a state of bliss at the sound, your mind rolls in daydreams about what it would be like to wake up to it over and over and over again. You were losing yourself, you knew that, but there was nothing stopping you from doing so. You free fall into the imagination of domesticity with Daniel and how easy and good it would all be.

Three soft taps. Are you up?

“Yeah, come in.” You sit up in bed, doing your best to comb down your bed head with the palm of your hands. Daniel poked his head through first before his body followed. You watched quietly as he made his way around the room, rolling into bed right next to you. He laid his head down against the pillow and you fought the urge to lay with him. Instead, you lean against the plush headboard and stare down at him.

“Happy New Year's Eve,” His voice is hoarse, thick with sleep. Surely he’d just woken up.

You rubbed your eyes, smiled all the while. “Happy New Year's Eve.”

He turned over, smiling into the fabric of his pillow case as he threw his arm over your thighs. Like it’s normal, like he’d done it before. “I was going to ask you if you wanted to get breakfast, but I think I could use another hour of sleep.”

Your fingers twirled his curls, round and round, as you nodded. “Sleep then.”

“Wake me in an hour? Then I promise we can go get breakfast.”

“One hour. Gotcha.”

Your fingers grazed his scalp, massaged his head of curls as he quickly fell back asleep. His body was limp next to yours, hot breath beating down on your skin.

True to your words, you shook him awake an hour after he fell asleep. It’s been an hour. He groaned softly, arm tightening around your legs and pulling himself against the soft skin of your flesh. Five more minutes. You didn’t have it in you to pry, so you let him fall back asleep. Soft snores fill the space of the guest bedroom, and you sit there for another five minutes. You shook him once more, but he was a goner, lost in a deep sleep and dreams you could only wish to know.

Slowly, gently, reluctantly, you pulled yourself from Daniel’s hold. You padded your way through his apartment, getting yourself acquainted with where things belong, in search of breakfast because while Daniel was too tired to care, you were hungry and needed food sooner rather than later.

You cooked an omelet, made use of the last of his eggs and the veggies that were in his fridge. You could do without bacon for now– well you had to because he didn’t have it. You allowed the soft sizzle in the pan to lull your nerves to a sort of calmness you haven’t had since being here with Daniel. You tried to find a bit of clarity for yourself as you made breakfast. And right when you think you’re okay, that the daydreams and the yearning mean nothing, he’s in the room with you.

He hadn’t said a word yet, but you knew the sound of his feet shuffling. He leaned up against the counter, rubbing his eyes with the back of his hand before watching you expertly flip the cooked egg over. “Sorry,” he muttered. “I promised you breakfast.”

You shook your head, taking a quick glance up at him with a smile. “That’s okay, Danny. Want one?”

He nodded, moving around you as he reached for the cupboard above your head. The kitchen was large, spacious, so clearly put together for a bachelor who didn’t spend too much time there. But despite the space, you found yourself bumping into Daniel, feeling the way his fingers trailed along your back as he moved behind you. You moved in sync, bumping into each other was just part of the dance. That’s what it felt like with him, a dance to music only the two of you seem to hear. It was always a dance, of pushing and pulling, going round and round until your head spun. It was beautiful. It was good.

You didn’t get ready until much later. The sun had just begun to touch the ocean, painting the sky shades of orange. You watched from the guest room, legs crossed while your make-up laid sprawled out on the bed. And while you swiped brush after brush, a pat of a sponge here and there, you grew to envy the ocean. How lucky it is to be kissed, to be loved so badly that the sun returns to it every day. You yearned for the same, to have such warmth sink beneath you and make you feel whole. But most of all, you yearned for Daniel.

You felt a little ridiculous. You felt stupid, insecure, so goddamn undeserving of the way your heart ached for him. You felt crazed, your head was a mess of thoughts of curly hair and the comforting smell of rain after a drought. You felt ridiculous because Daniel seemed to consume you, and you aren’t even sure if you consumed him in the same way. That’s when the fear settled, the need to run in the opposite direction because my god, what were you doing here?

You had to stand from your spot on the bed, make up half done and not set, to pace the room. You tried to shake off the way every nerve ending fizzled with this… you couldn’t say it. You couldn’t admit it. Because how could you? Why should you?

Maybe you hadn’t fallen, maybe this was a misplaced infatuation. Give it a couple more days, maybe even a couple more weeks and he would be nothing more than your friend, nothing more than a person who made life a little easier. Nothing less, nothing more.

But the tears cloud your vision, your hands shook, bile was climbing up the length of your throat. You felt so fucking sick.

You sit back down in the bad, blowing out a breath through pursed lips. Inhale, exhale. Breathe in, breathe out. You flopped onto your back, tubes and compacts of make-up clattering against each other as the bed rippled your movement. Inhale, exhale. Breathe in, breathe out. It was fine, you were fine, everything was okay.

Right?

You aren’t sure how managed to finish getting ready, truth be told the last hour or so were a blur. But you were ready, buckled into the front seat of his McLaren 720s, trying to pace your heart with the heavy bass song playing through the speaker. Daniel was oblivious to your sudden mental turmoil, more than excited to see his friends and celebrate the end of one of the worst years of his life. He had expressed multiple times just how excited he was to let loose, to pretend like his reality isn't real, even if it was just for a couple of hours.

The club was bass heavy, so loud that you could hear it as Daniel’s car slowed to a stop. Valet opened the door for you, stuck his hand out to help you exit the rather low sports car. Daniel grabbed the ticket before resting his hand on the small of your back and led you into the club.

It was packed, filled to the brim with people who were probably so drunk they wouldn’t make it to midnight. You followed the bouncer’s lead, along the perimeter of the club and into the section behind the DJ booth. You recognized a few faces, some who were in the garage with you, others who drove the car. You were introduced, reintroduced, Daniel shouted your name over the blaring music. This is my best friend!

Best friend. Best friend. Best friend.

You smiled, tight lipped and polite, even though the panic had begun to return. You shouldn’t be there, you shouldn’t have come. Fuck, fuck, fuck. You needed a drink.

You needed several drinks– and several were served to you. Vodka this, vodka that. Oh a round of shots, why not? You had begun to lose yourself to the booze and the music, the nerves and the panic long forgotten. All that mattered was that you were moving along to the bass and that you felt good. You couldn’t feel the way your toes screamed in pain, begging you to sit down, even for a second.

You only stopped because you had taken another shot and the world suddenly tilted to the left. Daniel met you on the sofa, arm resting on the back of it as he leant down to talk into your ear. “Slow down Poppy, we still got an hour til midnight!”

You looked up at him with wide eyes, leaning into him because god you just needed to feel him. His hand fell onto your shoulder, holding you firmly. His lips mouthed something. Water? It must’ve been. You nodded, throat suddenly dry. You clicked your tongue against the roof of your mouth in a feeble attempt to get rid of the cottonmouth. Daniel handed you a glass, and you sipped. You sipped until the ground leveled and your mind didn’t spin in circles. Sipped on the glass until Lando pushed it out of your hands and replaced it with a flute of champagne. Ten minutes! Fuck had that much time pass you by already?

Slender fingers slipped onto your waist as you stood from the couch, the pads of his digits pressing firmly into your flesh. You felt secure, safe. Your mind still teetered between sobriety and inebriety, but you knew you’d remember the following moments for the rest of your life.

Ten minutes turned into five, turned into one. And then you were counting down the seconds. The club was loud, the excitement building as you ticked closer to one. Daniel’s arm moved from your torso to hang over your shoulder. He pulled you into his side, squeezing tighter and tighter as he counted down. 5… 4… 3… 2… 1… Happy New Year! The crowd erupted into a mess of cheers, of heavy bass and the pop of streamers. Lights flickered, and you caught brief glances of hugs and kisses, of happy welcomes and excitement of what 2023 was meant to bring. And oh how you wished that it was you. That you were a person in the crowd being kissed, even if it was some cheesy cliche. You just wished it were you.

You made the mistake of looking up at Daniel, of letting curiosity get the best of you to see if he was seeing what you were. You wanted to know if he had the same desire written on his face as it was on yours. But instead, his gaze was already on you. Your cheeks burned, and you thanked the heavens that the lights distracted from the fact that you were blushed. Daniel smiled widely, removing his hand from your shoulder to rest on the side of your head. He pulled you into him, lips pressing into the soft skin of your temple. Once, twice. Then he craned his neck, pressed a kiss to your cheek before letting his lips hover over your ear.

“Happy New Year, Poppy.”

You smiled, turned your head again so you could selfishly look into his honey eyes again. And maybe you knew that in doing this, your face would only be mere centimeters apart. All it would take is a simple lunge, an accidental shove. So close, so fucking close. You silently wished that he would, that he’d give into the cliche and kiss you. Your brain was screaming, begging. Kiss me! Just fucking kiss me! But all he did was smile. Dimples imprint themselves into the soft skin of his cheeks, his gaze so soft you wanted to vomit. He looked at you in a way that made you dizzier than all the liquor you consumed that night. His hand comes up to cup your cheek, touch just ghosting your skin before planting firmly on the junction of your neck and jaw. Kiss me! Please kiss me! Won’t he do it?

You felt his fingers leave your cheek, creep to the back of your head and once again he’s pulling you in to kiss your forehead.

You sighed, spirit deflated, even as you shut your eyes and leaned into the kiss once more.

He cupped your cheeks again, both hands this time, squishing the soft flesh as he forced your gaze up at him. He couldn’t see the disappointment in your features, too distracted by the lights, the music, by everything else. He smiled. He always smiled. “I love you Poppy, I love you, I do!”

Your heart flipped, rattled your ribs, beat loudly in your fucking head. You bit back a smile even though all you wanted to do was grin. You scrunch your nose, feigned disgust even if you were elated. He loved you, he loved you he did.

You fell in love with Daniel in January.

Though, you’re sure that you had loved him for much longer. January was when you fully admitted it to yourself. No more denying, no more panic. Pure acceptance for the fact that you were in love with Daniel Ricciardo.

You left Monaco on the second, much to your dismay. If you had it your way, you would’ve stayed forever. But work had resumed and your boss only let you take off an extra day and nothing more. So Daniel drove you to the train station, dragged your luggage out of his car and walked you all the way to the gate. Your ticket was clenched tightly in your first as you looked up at him, a bit of wind blowing at the stray hairs that couldn’t be held back by the elastic. He reached out, tucked a hair behind your ear before resting his hand against your cheek. It was warm, reeked of generic hand sanitizer. You leaned into him, smiling even if your chest ached.

“Wish you could stay longer.” He muttered.

“Wish you would just come with,” You countered. With me, you wanted to emphasize but… the statement seemed too intimate. With me. Come with me, please.

He hummed, fingers hooking around the back of your neck to pull you into him. Your face collided with his chest in a soft thump, nose dug deep in the plush material of his t-shirt, just above his sternum. His hands readjust themselves around you, conforming to your frame against his body. Like a puzzle tab finding its perfect nook. He hugged you tightly, planted a kiss to the top of your head before flattening the hair in the same spot. You’d miss this, you thought to yourself, the few kisses given, the plethora of hugs exchanged, you were going to miss this. You were going to miss him.

You’re the first to step out of the embrace, blinking away tears that had just begun to blur your vision. You coughed an awkward laugh, smiled, tried about anything to hide how sad you really were in the moment. But Daniel saw right through you, clicked his tongue as he nudged your chin playfully.

“Don’t do that. Don’t cry.”

His words had the opposite effect, pushed the tears over the brim of your waterline. You tried to laugh it off, mock yourself and the ridiculous splay of emotions. You shook your head and swatted his hands away as he reached out to you again. “I’m fine, I'm fine. If you hug me again, I’m afraid I may just end up staying.”

Daniel’s reflexes were quick, right hand jolting forward to latch onto yours. He easily pulled you into him, quick enough so that you could catch the way his body rumbled with a chuckle beneath your touch. “I don’t see why that’s such a bad thing.” You indulged, melted right back into him, inhaled the sweet sweet smell of his cologne, committed every node to memory.

You wondered what the travelers walking to and fro, squeezing past you without an ounce of politeness, were thinking of the two of you. Could they see it? Could they feel it? Or were you just two losers standing in a train station delaying a needed goodbye?

Daniel pressed a gentle kiss against your cheek, soft lips catching you by surprise. His head dipped into your neck, arms squeezing you tightly. “I’ll miss you my little wildflower.”

You grinned, stifled a little laughter at the cheesy nickname as you inhaled deeply, “You’re getting really good at this nickname thing,” You teased, fingers coming up to play with the short hairs on the nape of his neck. “I like Poppy more.”

His body vibrated in a quiet chuckled, nodding against your shoulder. Noted.

You pulled away again, eyes flickering to the clock for a brief moment before your fingers latched onto the handle of your luggage. Daniel sighed, tilted his head in a sad smile. You caught the way he flexed his fingers at the release of your own, rings glinting in the light.

“So… goodbye?” You shrugged and he grinned, “See you soon?” You bit back a smile, “Arrivederci?”

You giggled, nodding your head, “See you in London.”

His lips part, a playful and breathy ah falling from his mouth as he nodded. London, London, London he says softly. “I’ll see you there Poppy.”

You had a multitude of responsibilities waiting for you in London, your boss made that perfectly clear with the two lengthy emails sent to your inbox as you sat on the train. There were unfulfilled plans with friends, a declutter day penciled in for the following Friday, and dinner with your parents. You had a million and one things that needed your attention, and for whatever reason, the five or so hours of travels back home, you spent in thought of Daniel.

His kiss, his touch, his everything was stamped onto you, it was as if it were all happening in that moment. It made you miss him even more, made your heart ache as you continued to move further and further from him. In the bits of sleep you found in your travels, your mind was consumed by him. Always him. You imagined that this was love, it was the only logical explanation. And so on the plane, while watching your flight path on the screen ahead of you, quietly and honestly, you admitted to yourself that this was love. You were in love.

And you were terrified.

London greeted you coldly, the wind biting at your cheeks as you lugged your luggage from the Uber to the warm lobby of your complex. The doorman greeted you with a smile, wished you a happy new year as you passed him by. Exhaustion had you by the talons, gripped at your body and spirit and forced you into bed. You crawled underneath your covers, pulled a pillow to your chest as you let sleep take over you. And in your slumber, as you drowned in the fantasy of Daniel and all the what ifs, you miss his call. You missed the first, the second, the third, and then finally the soft ping of his text tone.

Daniel 8:53 PM Are you awake? Please say you’re awake.

And another.

Daniel 8:55 PM You should’ve stayed. I wish you stayed.

Daniel flew into London from New York in February. After he had fulfilled every press, interview, tiktok, whatever kind of obligation being a third driver entailed– he hopped on a plane and flew straight to you.

What was meant to be a surprise turned out to be spoiled by his slight recklessness. He accidentally sent his pinned location to you instead of his friend, and in turn showed you that he was standing in the middle of Heathrow Airport. Then half an hour later, with excited text after text sent and a frenzied cleaning of your apartment, he was at your door and you were jumping into his arms. He laughed, walked you back into your home with one hand wrapped around your torso to keep your feet off the ground, and the other dragging his suitcase.

You’re here you mumbled into his hoodie, arms squeezing tight.

I’m here.

Being with Daniel at home felt good. It felt normal. It felt right. And the longer he stayed, the longer you watched him fit himself in your life, the harder you fell. There was a small part of you that wished he didn’t mold into your routines so well, that a bit of awkwardness had struck and maybe even cured you of this hopeless feeling that clenched your heart so tightly. You wished that his place in your life didn’t make sense but it did. Daniel sitting across from you for breakfast, nursing a second bowl of cereal made sense. His fingers looping your hair messily through a scrunchie while you cooked dinner made sense. The smell of fresh rain imprinted in every corner of your home just made sense.

Daniel, walking into your room and sliding into bed next to you while you read a book, made the most sense. You didn’t flinch at the dip in the bed, or the way his shoulder leaned onto you, or the smell of his shampoo in his damp hair. Ignoring your sporadic heartbeat was a challenge, but being here with him was easy. You hummed in acknowledgement, resting your head on his shoulder as you finished out the chapter. You see the glow of his phone screen, the flicker in color as he taps through stories and posts, leaving them all on mute as a courtesy to you. You flipped through a couple more pages before tucking your bookmark in and shutting it. The book falls on your night stand with a soft thud, discarded and forgotten as you turn your attention to Daniel.

“So I was thinking,” He mused, tapping something on his phone before setting it on his lap, “I leave in three days, so I think it’s only right we have a real sleepover.”

Your heart did flips. Back flips, cartwheels, a double back handspring with spin and perfect landing. Danced its way all the way to the top of your throat, supported by the nerves and the intent of his proposal. “You tired of the couch?” You teased, stabbing your index finger into his bicep playfully. He chuckled.

“Only a little. But I’ll gladly sleep on the floor if you’re too chicken to share a bed.”

You swung your pillow over at him, smacking him in the chest. Shut up, you stuttered, sinking deeper into your bed. You try not to let his loud laughter tinge your cheeks red, to make the tips of your ears heat up as you silently wish the world swallowed you whole. You were being dramatic, maybe. He was teasing, of course you knew he was. But fuck the accusation could not be any truer. You were fucking terrified of sharing a bed with Daniel, how it would blur another line of your friendship, confuse you further, and in turn making saying goodbye in three days time infinitely harder. But you were a little dumbstruck when it came to your affections for Daniel, a little self-indulgent and allowed your little heart to take the reins of all your decision making.

So that's how you end up lying dangerously close to the edge of your bed, watching as Daniel moved your pillows around to make a little more room for himself. Daniel. Making room for himself. In your bed.

You were gonna be sick.

He didn’t take too long to settle into his side, pulling on the duvet over his abdomen. Pillows had been thrown to the floor, stuffed animals perched nicely on your desk after you so kindly asked him to. The mattress was bare between the two of you– no pillow wall or some imaginary line established. No claims to a side, or a little jab to remind the other to stay on their side of the bed. Just the plain sheet and a bit of space rests between you.

Daniel clicked the lamp on his side of the bed off, darkness engulfing the space immediately. It took a minute or two for your eyes to adjust to the dark, to finally be able to trace the silhouette of Daniel’s features against the streetlight bleeding through your curtains. You trace the curls resting on his forehead, the bump on the bridge of his nose, down to the curve or each lip, and the point of his chin.

“You’re staring,” He muttered.

“No I’m not.” Yes, you were.

He didn’t comment, just turned onto his side so that he could look at you. Daniel tucked his hand underneath his pillow, pulling it flush against the juncture of his neck and shoulder. The space between you was gaping, large and awkward, begging to be occupied by the warmth of a body– maybe yours. He noticed, pulled the covers down before patting the cream sheet softly.

“I’m not gonna bite Poppy.”

You scrunch your nose, reaching out to poke him with your index finger. “How can I be sure?”

A single poke, pushing the tip of his nose inward before he juts his chin upward, catching your index finger between his teeth.

“You can’t.”

You turned your face into the pillow as you flexed your hand open, using the force of your other four fingers to push against his face. His laughter rumbled against your palm, lips wet and leaving a stamp of him in the middle of your hand. You feel his slender fingers come up around your wrist to pull your hand away and push it back into your chest. The warmth that emitted from his skin stayed with you, molded into your skin lest you forget how Daniel felt against you.

You didn’t budge from your position on the bed, and neither did he. Two people with an unreasonable amount of space between them– it was almost laughable. You wondered if he was as scared as you were to cross this line drawn in the sand. You wondered if he was afraid he’d get addicted to holding you, that he might never want to leave. Because you were afraid. You were afraid of losing yourself to a man you had no claim over, and falling so deep into him that you’d never find a way out. So you kept the bit of space, forced a bit of restraint on your heart that seemed to be reaching out to him.

Sometime between hushed whispers and the soft sounds of sheets rubbing together as you adjusted and readjusted yourself in your place, you fell asleep. You dreamt of the rain, the way it kissed your skin, kissed the Earth and all that is in it. You dreamt of a garden filled with poppies, of bright colored petals that poked out of the grass. You dreamt of familiar smiles, the sound of laughter. God, you dreamt of happiness.

The sun seeps through your curtains, golden light flooding the room. It shines the brightest between the curtains, peeking through to pull you from your slumber. You groan softly, burying your face deeper into warm skin, pulling the duvet over your shoulder. Toned arms shift around you, hold you tighter before mumbling incoherencies and drifting back to sleep.

Without the cologne, Daniel smells like citrus scented soap. Bright, sweet, stuck to his skin even after tossing and turning all night. You almost envy the way he never seems to smell bad, how beautiful smells like peeled oranges or rained-on flowers stick to him. You envy the way he snores softly, clutching on to sleep better than you ever could. Because now you’re awake, mind racing against your heart as you wrap your head around how you laid: tangled up with Daniel.

You lay stiff, terrified out of your fucking mind as Daniel holds on to you for dear life. He’s so warm. The kind of warmth that compared to the sun beating down on your skin on a cool spring day. The kind that relieves you of goosebumps, of chilly fingertips and the feeling that the tip of your nose might just fall off. Daniel was like the sun in a lot of ways, you conclude.

You squeezed your eyes shut, trying to force yourself to return back to your dreams. But it burns where your skin meets Daniel’s– hot, sticky, melting together. You can feel the dips of his muscles against you, the firmness to them even if he held you so softly. His arm lays over your torso, curled in towards you to keep you close to him, while his chin rests on the top of your head. Your face is positioned between his collarbones, tip of your nose just ghosting the supple skin there. You try to turn your head, find a place in which you didn’t drown in him, but no matter where you turned, you were comfortably stuck to him.

Daniel groans above you as you try to turn your head again, squeezing you tighter. “You move too much in your sleep.” Sleep weighs down on his voice, makes it heavy and gravely, rough with exhaustion. You smile, humming as you stuff your face back into his chest.

“Sorry.”

He hums, “Morning.”

“Morning.”

You lay with Daniel quietly, stuck in the position you woke up in. No one moves, no one speaks, just enjoying the soft lull of steady breathing and the world starting its day without the two of you. Cars pass by your street and birds converse outside your window– you imagine they were talking about the sun. You lay wrapped in Daniel until he shifts, pulling his arm from your torso to rub his sleep-riddled face. You look up, chin resting in the middle of his chest. You watch his lips stretch into a yawn, the way his index finger and thumb come up to wipe the tears that brim at his eyes. And then he cranes his neck, points his chin downwards so that he can catch a glimpse of you.

And he smiles.

“Told you I don’t bite.”

Daniel leaves in three days. He reminds you over breakfast, biting into a piece of toast like it isn’t a big deal. Three days left of this, of breakfast in the mornings and his face before bed. You smile sadly into your oatmeal, mixing the fruit around the slurry before spooning it into your mouth. Silverware clatters against porcelain, it echoes against the walls of your home. It makes your heart miss him before he’s even gone.

The days blend into the other, no memory seemed to have a cut off. Daniel’s last three days with you were a lump sum of memories, colliding, meshing into each other, dependent on the hours before so that the now made sense. And in every moment, all the laughter and smiles, the almost-touches and almost-kisses, the larger the space in your heart grew for Daniel. Your mind let you wander treacherously through the what-ifs, the maybes, and the could bes. What if we. Maybe we. We could be. We, we, we.

The night before his flight, you took him to a work thing. That’s how you described it as you helped him pick between two polos. You point at the striped one before flopping onto bed. “It’s just this weird game night. It’s supposed to boost morale, help us bond. It’s been a rough couple months in the office so this is corporate’s way of building– well, rebuilding the peace.”

Daniel nods, pulling off his shirt before shrugging on the navy striped button up over his shoulders. “So what is it… like poker? Black Jack maybe?”

You ignore the way his abdomen flexes as he readjust the shirt, the buttons still undone and swaying with his movement. “Maybe. I dunno, I heard someone from accounting was gonna bring scrabble.”

He laughs like you were joking. But low and behold, as he walked into the pub behind you, three people were already seated at a table elbow deep in a game of scrabble. Tiles scattered the board as two of the three players argued about the validity of the word. Cards were thrown around, smacked on the table to show off a good hand. Poker chips clatter as they’re pushed across the tables, and littered in all that mess is booze being bought left and right. Between the bustling of bodies and the sweet buzz of conversation, you can just hear the bass of some EDM mix playing on the loudspeaker.

You and Daniel make your way to the bar, immediately greeted by the people who work in your department. They smile up at Daniel, wide-eyed as they shoved you playfully. You didn’t tell me you were friends with the Daniel Ricciardo! You mouth a quick I’m sorry as phones are thrusted in his direction– all of which he takes gracefully, taking selfie after selfie. And after maybe the tenth one, you reach into the crowd of people, gripping his wrist tightly as you pull him to you.

“Alright guys, he’s meant to be on break, leave him alone now.” You wave your hand in the air, shooing away coworkers who just grin and nod, a sea of thank yous sent his way his wrist slips from your grasp to offer them a wave. Daniel grabs the beer set out for the two of you, before slinging his arm over your shoulder and pulling you to a table top in the far end of the bar. He sets the beers down before pulling your chair out for you, hand out for you to boost yourself up onto the lifted chair– a hand you gladly take.

Daniel sits to your left, fingers snaked around the neck of the amber bottle as he brings it up to his lips to take a sip. You watch quietly, spinning the bottle between your index finger and your thumb, eyes fixated on the way his adam's apple bobs up and down as gulps his beer. He doesn't seem to notice– or maybe he just doesn't care. Instead he leans in towards you, eyes fixated on the crowd ahead of him, the hands reaching over tables and the soft slaps of cards being shuffled. “So, what do you think, Uno or Cards Against Humanity?”

You click your tongue against the roof of your mouth, sucking in a gust of air between your teeth. “I don't know, as appealing as playing Cards Against Humanity with my coworkers and in turn finding out a little too much about their personal life is, I think Uno might just be our safest option.”

Daniel laughs at your sarcasm. Nodding as he slides out from the table, hand out for you to take. C’mon then, he hums as he encloses your fingers in the warm grip of his hands, tugging you between tables and passer-bys, plopping down at a table of five. You recognize one other person at the table, the dealer, who smiles at you as she deals you and Daniel in. It was meant to start as a friendly little game, with lighthearted laughter and maybe a bit of peaking over at the other’s cards. But between the third and fourth deal, people had begun to throw quid on the table, then all of a sudden you’re down twenty and Daniel was happily collecting the bills on his end. You scowl over at him, nudging his leg with the toe of your shoe.

“You don’t need all this money.”

“Not my fault you suck.” He puckers his lips, sends a kiss over to you in the space between you two.

“Bite me,” You sneer, picking up your new set of seven cards, organizing them by color.

You catch a whiff of his cologne as he leans in. You pull your hand close to your chest, pressing the cards flush against your being as he lines his mouth up to your ear to whisper, “Careful what you wish for.”

Your cheeks flush, bright pink though no one at the table seems to catch it under the dim lighting of the pub. Another game, you’re sure you’ve got the upper hand this time around but then Daniel drops a skip… and then another… and then he stacks a draw two… twice. By the end of the game you had about half the deck of cards in your hands and Daniel counting about forty quid in his hands. You’re scowling again, and he laughs at your misfortune.

You excuse yourself from the table, running up to the bar to get yourself another beer. Stacy– you think her name is Stacy anyway– slides next to you, picking up a bit of conversation. It’s small talk, surface level shit until she’s asking about the boy you had been stuck to all night. She teases you, refers to him as the boy, it makes you feel giddy. To one person in this room, Daniel was your little secret. And it felt nice. It felt good. But you shook your head, the blush taking over your face again as you took the beer that was handed to you, mumbling how he’s just a friend. But Stacy– or is it Sarah? She smiles and shrugs, taking her cocktail as she hops off her bar stool, red straw placed between her coco colored lips to take a sip before stepping back.

“All I’m saying… friends don’t look at friends the way you two look at each other.”

She leaves you at the bar with a sentence equivalent to fuel to a fire. It burns, oh it festers. Your mind reels over every moment, every second you’ve spent with Daniel, trying to figure out how he looked at you.

Your eyes scan over the crowd, the mess of chatter tuned out as you look for a mop of curls which you spot towards the front of the bar. He’s laughing– he’s always laughing. You might’ve been meters away, but you could hear him, the joyful ha has over the multitude of conversation. And for a moment, like every cliche written and produced, the room stops. Suddenly the crowd disappears, the music is turned down, and it’s just you and Daniel. The lamp over the table beams, reflects over his golden skin as he deals the cards down on the table. His fingers are quick, counting quietly to himself as he goes around the table. And when he’s done, he sets the left over cards down in the middle of the table in a neat stack. Before he picks up his set, he reaches over to your seat, pulls the cards together neatly and pats it down before picking up his own. You watch as his slender fingers pick at the cards– that one goes at the end, oh and this one between these two. He picks and pulls, slots cards by cards til he’s satisfied with his line up. Then he squeezes the cards into one stack, setting down on his thigh below the table.

His head turns, you see the soft swing of his curls as he looks around the bar. He looks and looks and oh, relief. Daniel’s shoulders drop when he catches sight of you, a smile so wide your cheeks ache for him. His hand goes up in the air, waving at you to return to your seat. Hurry! You aren’t sure if he actually said it, but you know his lips moved that way. He smiles, his eyes are warm and bright, this sultry kind of brown that you could distinguish from miles away. You miss it as he turns away to immerse himself in a conversation you didn’t care to know about. You smile, just enough so that your cheeks round a bit and your eyes squint in just the slightest. You smile in a way that a girl watches a boy she loves from across the way, watches as he melts into her life. And he melts so well, sits so comfortably without you as he awaits your return. He has his arm slung over your chair, nodding over at someone you could care less about. He laughs at jokes, makes some back, and– god you just couldn’t stop staring. You couldn’t stop watching him. Him, him, always him.

You walk back over to the table, setting a hand on Daniel’s shoulder as you lean down to him. His hand comes up to rest over yours, head turning ever so slightly so that he can see you. Your heart is in overdrive, your body overheating. You try to ignore it. You try, try, try.

“I’m gonna go get some air.”

“You okay?” His brows furrow with concern. You nod, and he doesn’t seem to relax. “Are you sure?”

“Yes, Daniel. I’m fine. Just stuffy in here.”

“Well, let me come with.”

He goes to get up from his seat, but you push him back down. “No, no no I’ll be fine.” You smile– you think you do. “I’ll be back. Win this round so you can buy me a drink after.”

He looks unconvinced, eyes scanning your face for a morsel of doubt, for a twitch of lip that would beg him to accompany you. But you keep your expression fair, squeeze his shoulder again, and he concedes. He nods, patting your hand again. “Okay okay, deal.”

Your hand comes up to his cheek, and he leans into your touch as it slips away. He turns his head, watches you walk out the door while the game starts. You feel his eyes burning in a hole in the back of your skull and it only makes you walk quicker.

The cool London air blows the door open, bites at your skin and fights against the warmth pooling with the booze. You wrap your arms around yourself, rubbing your palms against your arm, squeezing the flesh there. Your eyes fall shut, inhaling deeply as you try to center yourself, trying to get ahold of your heart, trying to get it to slow down. Tears were threatening you, choking you.

You didn’t want to say bye. You don’t want all this to end, to have Daniel pluck himself out of your company and back to his normal routines. You don’t want to go back to the facetime calls, and debriefs over texts. No you want to smell the rain, you want the cheeky laughter and fighting over who gets the rest of the cereal. You want late night drives to Taco Bell, and early mornings to get coffee because you were too lazy to run your own. But most of all, you want Daniel. You want the good, the bad, all the highs and all the lows. You want every single moment between now and an indefinite future.

And you felt crazy for wanting such a thing.

You hear the door creak behind you, a bit of the conversation escaping with him before he shuts the door with a soft thud.

“Hey, come back inside. You’re missing out on the game.” Daniel bumps his shoulder with yours, a smile so wide it drives fear into your chest. You look up at him, take all the strength left in you to smile– and you hope that you do it well. His smile, bright, excited, so reminiscent of the Daniel you bumped into some time ago. He’s tanned, hair curly, muscles bulky, he’s back to who he was before a string of bad luck wore him down. He was this new Daniel that you had fallen so head over heels for, and it hurt your heart not to say it.

The words sit in your throat, run it dry and make it hard to breathe. You were getting all choked up with a secret you couldn’t bear to keep.

He bumps your shoulder again, “What? Are you scared to lose again?”

God you were so afraid to lose. But maybe you had already lost more than you could ever admit to yourself.

Daniel says your name.

“I’m in love with you.”

You had a dream about this moment. It happened in the rain, colorful poppies potted in a flowerbed by a house, and oh how the world smelled divine. You could still hear the laughter, still see the smile that graced his face. You dreamt about the way he would wrap himself around you, allow you to bury yourself in his warmth and the scent of fresh fallen rain. In every universe, you imagined the way the words would sound coming from his mouth. You imagined the simplicity, the good in the moment.

But then you see his face run pale, lips parted without the words to back him up. You see how he scratches the back of his neck before it comes around to rub his stubble. And then his fingers are running through his hair. He takes a step back, and there’s this space between you that wasn’t there before. Your name rolls off his tongue, sounds so despondent it twists your heart. It sounds so…

“I-I-I-” You stammer like it would mend the situation, “I’m sorry but… I couldn’t keep it in. Couldn’t continue to pretend like my heart didn’t wanna beat out of my chest everytime I see you, so I just had to– I had to say it.”

You see his chest begin to rise with each breath he takes. It’s slow, but deep. His eyes are wide, they’re panicked, they look so fucking afraid.

“Daniel I–” “What are you doing?” Your lips fall shut. What are you doing? You bite down on your bottom lip, palms pressed together as you rub them in front of you to distract from the tears that were already beginning to cloud your vision. Daniel lets out a breath, hands coming up to run through his hair– again. “Why… why would you say that?” His hands rub his beard, again. “Fuck, Poppy why would you say that?”

The air is caught in your throat. The words on your tongue melt away, daydreams dissolve. You were left with your skin and a heart that continues to shatter because Daniel stares at you like you’ve done something wrong. And all you could, all you had the strength to do, is smile. You smile because that’s all you had left to give. A smile that made your lips quiver, cheeks tremble and wet with your sadness. You don’t know what else to do, so you smile.

“I just needed you to know.”

Daniel drops his face into his hands, shaking his head into his palms. You watch him, watch as he mumbles to himself. You watch in tears, your shattered heart at your feet as you wait for the change in tone, wait for a moment you’ll never live to see. He lifts his gaze back up to you, the panic gone and replaced this kind of pity that makes you wish you never said it in the first place.

He says your name with a bit of remorse, and yet it still sounds beautiful. “I… I can’t. Poppy I’m sorry.”

You let out a breath. It’s your turn to turn away, hands coming up to push your hair back as you tried to control the sobs that threatened to take over you. Another shaky breath, another drop of tears onto your cheeks. You couldn’t let him see you so broken, you can’t let him have that. No, you refused.

“Poppy–” “Daniel, please.” “Poppy you mean so much–”

“Daniel,” You turn around, hand out to motion him to stop, “Please don’t. Please.”

“You are the greatest friend–” He continues anyway, torturing you with the right thing to say– the most reasonable thing to say, “–I could ever ask for. You don’t know how much I appreciate that. How much I–”

“I don’t want that Daniel I–” “–How much I appreciate you.”

He reaches out for you. You should’ve pushed him away, you should’ve stepped back, but god you are so weak for him. So you bask in the warmth of his hand, the way he squeezes it like he was trying to stitch back that hole he left in your chest. You let yourself rest in the false sense of security for just a second. You stare at the point your skin touches, the way his skin contrasts yours, fingers holding onto yours so tightly. It’s warm. It’s good.

It’s good for all of two seconds, and then you’re crying and pulling yourself from him again. You wipe your face with the back of your hand, shaking your head and smiling. Daniel says your name, desperate to get to you again. But you shake your head, take another step back.

“You don’t know how much you mean to me.” His voice is a whisper, nearly overpowered by the gust of cold wind. “Poppy–”

“Daniel, it’s okay.” Your voice breaks because it’s not. But you pretend that it is to save face, to pretend that you can walk away from this moment with your head held high.

He calls your name again, craning his neck so that he can meet your gaze, and you try to avoid it but he comes into view. His hand comes up, chin tucked in his index finger and thumb to lift your face. “But it's not. I can see it on your face.”

“But it has to be, right?”

You clamp your lips into a tight line, tugging your face out of his hold. It’s quiet, tense, and you’re so fucking miserable. For the first time, there’s a sense of dread. In the months you’ve grown to know Daniel, to fall in love with him, in the time that brought you to this moment– you now feel that dread. It sits heavy in your chest, squeezing your heart so tight you think it might pop. If someone had asked you all those months ago if you could picture walking away from Daniel, your answer would be a resounding no. You could never picture yourself doing it– and even if you could, you could always picture running straight back to him.

But now, now you’re forced to reckon with the reality that you have to walk away and never look back. That if you want to hold on to the very little dignity you have left, you should say your goodbyes and walk away. But where was the good in this goodbye? It was just a promise that this is the end, that the next time you see him would not be of your intention. You would have to accept that the only good in this farewell is that it’s permanent.

So in February you walked away with your heart in your hands and a gaping hole in your chest shaped like Daniel. You walked yourself to the underground railway and sobbed because it was the only thing left for you to do. You clutched onto your chest because it hurt so fucking bad.

Daniel collected his items from your apartment the next day while you cried in your bedroom. He knocked on your door, twisted the knob only to find that it’s locked. He said he’s sorry through the door, he said it over and over you had to pull the pillow over your head.

I don’t deserve you Poppy, his voice is muffled but so fucking clear at the same time, I’m sorry Poppy. I… I’ll see you soon.

And then it was over. Daniel was gone– easily, tragically, and all at once. All the memories that mesh together melted into your sadness. It kept you in bed with the blinds drawn shut. Darkness and despair always paired well together.

Your phone pings, the screen lights up and illuminates the bedroom. But you don’t have the heart to look, because you know who it is. You could see his contact photo, you can see the letters spell out his name. So instead you bury yourself deeper into the pillows and blankets, bury yourself deeper into your hopelessness. For just a moment, you wanted to forget that he existed, that he was every part of your life, that you ever poured your heart to him thinking for a second that he would feel the same way.

Daniel 4:33 PM Please don’t forget about me

You’ll never forget him and everything he was to you. Never.

February blends into March. March into April. April to May, June, July. And suddenly it’s August again.

You lay on the beach in Mykonos, nursing another strawberry margarita. You love strawberry margaritas. But this time around, you stay away from the bustling movements of the bar, instead choosing to lounge by the pool in hopes to catch a tan. After all, what was summer for?

You try to ignore the obvious, what the Mykonos was to you a year prior. The memories it gave the person it brought to you. The laughter. The ease. The smell of fresh fallen rain. All the good in Daniel clung onto you and you clung right back. A year ago you met someone who changed your worldview, caught a glimpse of your soul, before shattering your being. He was the best and worst thing that could’ve possibly happened to you.

August… August and all the months that followed slipped away in a moment in time. It fell to the back of your mind, laid to rest so that you’d find a bit of peace. You hope Daniel is well, wherever he is in the world. You hope that he hasn’t forgotten about you, like how you haven’t forgotten him.

Another sip of your strawberry margarita, drinking down the remnants of slush in the glass before setting it down and laying it back. And the sun disappeared, a shadow took its place. But you were warm, you were comforted, you felt at peace. You felt good. So you smile, hand coming up to block the bits of sunlight that peek behind him. You catch a glimpse of messy curls and a smile so wide you’re sure it hurts.

“Can I buy you a drink?”

d rambles. . . hey girl hey. i haven't put out a fic in fucking ages, sorry bout that. but yay, new blog, new fic!! this turned into a MONSTER, but i think im happy with how it all came together. was the ending a little rushed? maybe. but in my defense, this whole fic turned out soooo much longer than i initially planned. anyways. i hope you liked this one & as always, feedback is always always appreciated.

#daniel ricciardo #daniel ricciardo x reader #daniel ricciardo x you #daniel ricciardo imagine #daniel ricciardo one shot #f1 one shot #f1 imagine #daniel ricciardo angst

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formulaforza · 5 months

Text

—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!”

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goldsainz · 7 months

Text

THIS IS ME TRYING — one shot.

pairing: daniel ricciardo x reader

MASTERLIST.

PART 1.

taglist: @lorarri @lpab @noncannonships @lunnnix @elliegrey2803 @schumacheer @saintslewis @leoramage @ellswilliams @toomuchdelusion @anthonykatebridgerton @enhacolor @gulabjamoon @woweewoowa @forza55 @ihrtdan @ravisinghs-wife @alearicci

request: “PT 2 OF AUGUST IM BEGGING 🤞🏼🤞🏼🫶🏼🫶🏼🙏🏼🙏🏼🙏🏼🙏🏼🙏🏼🙏🏼🙏🏼 on my knees 🧎🏽‍♀️🧎🏽‍♀️🧎🏽‍♀️”

NOTE: the well being of a cat was on the line if this fic didn’t happen… so here it is! ignore the fact that daniel is still not here😔 this is very short, i know, and i’m sorry… but i am planning a third part soooooo

liked by pierregasly, ynfan1 and 78,529 others

f1wags Y/N Y/L/N, more than a month after her alleged affair with Daniel Ricciardo, appeared at the paddock of the Qatar Grand Prix, where the driver will make his return after his metacarpal injury.

view all 1,073 comments

ynfan2 she ate all the girlies up with her fit

user1 i’m crying wtf is pierre doing here😭

⤷ danielfan1 he’s always at the scene of the crime smh

ynfan3 serving cunt 24/7 like it’s a job

ynfan4 never though y/n would be back in a wag account… kinda missed it

user2 her hair is so beautiful

danielfan2 we do not want her here!!!!!!

⤷ ynfan5 SPEAK FOR YOURSELF

danielfan3 “affair” it lasted like 2-3 business days…

ynfan6 her wag era was too short i need it back😭

yourusername posted an instagram story!

liked by valentinazenere, simihaze and 2,479,185 others

yourusername qatar grand prix ✨ thank you so much to redbullracing for the invite and congrats to maxverstappen1 on winning the championship! this was such an exciting experience over all 💙

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maxverstappen1 Thank you for the support!

liked by yourusername and 106,823 others

ynfan21 not austin like and she was glowing all weekend… could be actually be free this time?

user21 what a pleasure it was to see her on the paddock!

ynfan22 the star of the qatar gp right here!!!

danielfan21 ugh every time she appeared on my screen she made me want to break it🙄

⤷ ynfan23 he’s not gonna like you more for saying this btw!

ynfan24 i love red bull being messy

danielfan22 there is something so funny about her being a guest

ynfan25 crying at people being mad she was invited😭 as if she’s not an A-list celebrity

ynfan26 oh i know daniel was bamboozled when he saw her

⤷ danielfan23 actually, according to rumours, he didn’t see her at all. made every single attempt he could to avoid her, in fact

⤷ danielfan24 lmao i would too if i was just a rebound

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love-belle · 7 months

Text

and i know i'll pay for it !!!

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ in which their break up was a wound that remained black and bruised and his return only pressed it more.

for when you both drew blood but those cuts were never equal. ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚

warnings - language

author's note - i have no excuse for not updating except that i didn't want to :// i hope u like this <3 thank u sm for sticking around :)

≡;- ꒰ °twitter ꒱

#f1 x reader #f1 x female reader #f1 imagines #social media au #fake instagram imagines #daniel ricciardo au #daniel ricciardo imagine #daniel ricciardo x reader #daniel ricciardo #daniel ricciardo x y/n #daniel ricciardo x female reader #daniel ricciardo x you #daniel ricciardo angst #formula one x you #formula one x reader #formula 1 x reader #formula one imagine #f1 x you #f1 x y/n

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old-lorarri · 4 months

Text

꒰꒰ ‧₊˚𝐖𝐄𝐋𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐄 𝐓𝐎 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐌𝐔𝐋𝐓𝐈𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐄 ─ 𝐃𝐑𝟑 ˚₊· ꒱꒱

─ summary . . . ❨ these days everyone has there opinions and it just so happens that people have opinions on your relationship...liked you asked ❩ ─ pairing . . . ❨ daniel ricciardo x fem! young! marvel! actress! reader ❩ ─ genre . . . ❨ social media file ❩ ─ author note . . . ❨ short and sweet one ngl I was kinda tapped for ideas with this request lol so I hope you guys like it anyway and enjoy! ❩

❨ taglist | masterlist ❩

danielricciardo

liked by yourinstagram landonorris 67,892,361 others

danielricciardo love my lady

view comments

user am I the only one who thinks it's weird that Y/N is dating someone so much older than her?

user Y/N baby this isn't you 😕

user can't you guys just leave them alone 😭😭😭

user danny wtf are you doing with a child 💀 ⤷ user she is legit a fully grown adult 🙄

user I think they are cute together but I just can't get behind the age difference 🤮

user free adam taylor johnson and Y/N L/N yall ✊🏼

user okay but 7 years diffrence ain't that bad if you really think about it 😐

comments have been limited

yourinstagram

liked by danielricciardo lewishamilton 65,279,368 others

yourinstagram hate to break it to you but I have daddy issues and I'm not afraid to show them

comments have been disabled

─ requested by . . .

anon ─ hii!! can i request danny ric x younger! marvel actress! reader? u dont have to if u dont want to,, thank u!!

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forzalando · 3 months

Note

okay so i had a look at the prompt list and it made me think of a few scenarios🤭 it can honestly be ideas for blurbs, bigger fics or just brain rot, whatever you’re comfortable with:)

first one i came up with - daniel + "Letting go was the hardest thing I have ever had to do."

i’ve always felt like danny is a perfect for second chance romance:)

hello, hello! thank you so much for your requests!! this is definitely longer than a blurb lol but i was inspired and kept writing! i hope you enjoy it!! Daniel Ricciardo x ex!reader wc: 1.4k warnings: angst, curse words, mentions of drinking

You knew in your heart that you’d see Daniel Ricciardo again someday – but you never pictured it like this.

In your mind, you’d be out at a club in Monaco and lock eyes across the room or you’d finally accept one of Max’s invitations to come to a race and have to explain why you were there.

You never once entertained the idea that he’d seek you out – let alone show up to your apartment late at night in the pouring rain, but Daniel was dramatic. Passionate. He always has been. It was one of the reasons you first fell in love with him, he never did anything or said anything halfway.

When you heard the frantic knocking at your door, you should’ve expected it, but you didn’t. And now he was here, dripping water onto your floors, chest heaving with the smell of whiskey and his cologne surrounding you.

“Why did you leave me?” He asked you, the vulnerability in his voice like a punch to your gut.

“Daniel, it’s late, we can talk about this in the morning. I’ll get you a change of clothes.”

“No, I want to talk about it now. Why did you leave me? Why was it so easy for you to leave me? And don’t call me Daniel, you never called me Daniel.”

“It wasn’t easy. Nothing about the past three months has been easy. And let’s not forget who left first. I may have been the one to say “we’re done” but you had been checked out long before then. All you cared about was your standings and getting Checo’s Red Bull seat. Congrats, by the way. I hope it was worth it.”

He winced at your words. At first, you supported him wholeheartedly. The rumor mill in general was vicious but the Formula One rumor mill was an entirely other beast. After Danny’s return in the 2023 season, all eyes were on him to perform then and throughout 2024. Checo’s seat would be up for grabs, he hadn’t been performing at the level he should have been in a Red Bull, and so Danny set his sights on a top team seat that everyone said could be his.

Somewhere along the way, he forgot himself. He forgot you. Late nights on the sim, time spent with Max both due to friendship and to talk about how possible it was for them to be teammates once again. You knew Max, and you knew that Max knew Daniel, so you knew that Max would give him just enough to keep that fire in his belly and keep pushing. He had to think things weren’t final up until the very end, even though you’d found out recently that they’d decided on Danny not even eight races into the season.

It took until summer break for you to muster up the courage to talk to Danny – to tell him how hurt you were that the only time he talked to you was to vent about a race or to make you feel guilty for not being at all of them. In all the years you’d been together, he’d never made you feel that way before. He promised he would turn things around. He’d sobbed in your arms that he could never lose you.

And yet, he did. Things didn’t change. If anything, they got worse with the added pressure of sitting just outside the top 10 in standings and Yuki performing extremely well in the second half of the season.

“I wasn’t fair to you,” he whispered. “I knew it then and I know it even more now, but I promise you. I swear to you. I will never be that way again.”

“And how can I trust you? You said the same thing to me six months ago when I came to you ready to leave and I gave you a chance. I stayed, and nothing changed. What’s different now?”

He opened his mouth to answer, and you knew what he would say. That he had the seat, that he wouldn’t be under that constant pressure. He could prioritize you. He would be the man you fell in love with.

“Don’t even start with me, Daniel. That’s bullshit. You may have the seat but it’ll be even worse now. If you make one mistake, the media will tear you apart. You’ll always be compared to Max. Hell, look what Red Bull did to Pierre and Alex! Talk to them! One fuck up and you’re done! There’s no way they made your contract any more favorable than the others, no matter how much respect there is between you and Christian.”

“I’m not Pierre or Alex, do you think they’re better than me? And that if they couldn’t handle it neither can I? You don’t believe in me?”

“You know that’s not what I’m saying, don’t put words in my mouth. I’ve always believed in you and I always will. I’m only trying to make you realize that the pressure will be even worse now, so how can you promise me that things between us would be better?”

The dead silence enveloped you – he said nothing in return, though you weren’t sure if he was quiet because he didn’t care to fight, or because you had scared him.

You didn’t want to keep going in circles, you’d said your piece and hoped that Daniel would understand. “I’m tired, Danny. Can we just go to sleep? The spare bedroom is made up, some of your old clothes are in there.”

Calling him Danny was a slip – it was what everyone called him, what you always called him, and he always claimed it was different coming from you. No one else said it with the love and care that you did. Even now, through all the hurt, the pain, the distance, he could hear the emotion in the way you said it.

He looked straight into your eyes, renewed determination and love – like it had never fizzled out between you.

“I’ll quit.”

You turned around and laughed, refusing to look at his face while he mocked you. “Don’t be ridiculous, Daniel.”

“I’m serious.”

When you looked back at him, his phone was pulled out of his pocket. He was typing furiously, swiping droplets of water off the screen when they dripped down from his curls. After a few moments, he slid his phone across the counter to you, the screen lit up.

An email was sent to his attorney, asking what his options were if he wanted to get out of his contract with Red Bull before he even had a chance to drive the car.

“You are more important to me than any car, any team, any career. You’re more important to me than anything in this world. I fucked up and I lost the best thing in my life because I thought something else would make it better, make me happier, and the only thing I could think about when I signed that stupid contract was how badly I wished I had been the man you deserve so that you could have been there next to me. Celebrating with me. It means nothing to me without you.”

He'd moved closer to you, tentatively reaching to wipe the tears gathering on your lash line and then swiping with his thumb to catch those that fell.

“There will never be anyone else that I love,” he whispered. “Please let me prove to you that this isn’t how things are supposed to end. It’s you and me, forever.”

“Letting go was the hardest thing I have ever had to do, Danny. I can’t do it again. Do not make me do it again.” You fell into his embrace despite his soaked clothes, and for the first time in months you felt like you could breathe again.

“I won’t.”

You stayed in your kitchen until sunbeams bloomed on the horizon – clothes sticking to your skin, sharing kisses that tasted like rainwater. You began to doze off eventually, tucked into Danny’s side, but before you lost yourself to sleep completely you mumbled into his chest.

“Also, when your lawyer emails you back, tell him you were drunk and it was a dare. You’re not quitting, though I appreciate the gesture.”

#daniel ricciardo #daniel riccardo x reader #daniel ricciardo angst #f1 x reader #f1 fic #f1 fanfic #f1 angst #forzalando blurb #f1 blurb

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lipringlrh · 10 months

Text

small rooms and crowded spaces | DR3

summary: you don't do well in crowded rooms or rooms full of people but daniel is always there to make you feel better.

pairing: daniel ricciardo x genderneutral!reader

an: my first daniel fic so please let me know how you find it!!! also pretend i posted this half an hour earlier on his actual birthday

word count: 1.1k

warnings: anxiety, crowded spaces + people.

feedback and reblogs are appreciated!

…

You hated crowded spaces: small rooms with far too many people, hotel lobbies during checkout time, and lifts with more than your own family. But most of all, you hated parties; they were an overcrowded dump, full to the brim with drunk idiots who really didn't care that they had just pushed you into a wall.

You never went on your own accord, and rarely anyone else's, but tonight was different. You were told it would be a small get-together with only a few drivers, past and present, and the odd mechanic or engineer. What you didn't expect was a massive party with people showing up even though they didn't know the host. Daniel had promised you it would be small and you would leave with him the second you wanted to, but it was impossible to find him through the groups of people. And even if you did, you'd feel too guilty to ask him to leave after knowing he was so glad to be out again.

Little did you know, Daniel was looking for you too. The whole night, he hadn't taken he eyes off of you. He either hadn't left your side or knew where you were at precisely any moment. It'd take one little slip up to lose you, which he wasn't planning on doing but when everything got too loud and he was pulled into a conversation where he had to focus his all on trying to hear, he lost you.

He was still meant to be engrossed in conversation with the same man, but he wanted to look for you. It was harder than imagined though as every time he tried to leave or just stop the conversation, the man would carry on, obviously ignoring the worried state of your boyfriend.

Daniel didn't give up though, his head was flicking rapidly back and forth trying to catch any glimpse of you. He was ignoring the man desperately trying to talk to him, only replying with short hums, ignoring every adequate reply.

He spotted you eventually, squashed into a wall. You were pushing yourself into it as far as you could go, searching around frantically for your boyfriend. You hadn't noticed him yet but he just wished you would, hoping it would calm you little until he managed to reach you.

He didn't know which way to go - every possible direction was cut off by groups of people. He decided he didn't care and just pushed passed everyone, occasionally dropping a "thank you" to the people who moved with ease.

You noticed him heading towards you, through the people and he could see you visibly relax. You kept your eyes trained on him, using him as a comfort, as he made his way over.

He could tell you were scared, anyone a mile away could, and he wished nothing more that the evening hadn't gone the way it did and that you had spent every moment within reach.

He reached you in due time, immediately placing his hands on your upper arms, rubbing up and down, whilst checking your face and body to make sure you were physically fine.

"I'm so sorry, baby. Are you okay? What can I do?"

You stared up at him, before flicking your eyes back around the room. You felt too constricted to speak or move at all. Daniel understood; he knew you and your emotions more than anyone else along with your responses to them.

"Okay, lets get you out of here. I'm going to put my arm around you and were going to head out the back exit, that okay?" You just nodded - you felt that was all you could do. Daniel knew what you meant and knew all the words you wished you could've said.

He manoeuvred you in and out of groups, making sure no one elbowed you or pushed you. It wasn't a long way to get out but every step felt like it was further away and so much harder to do. Daniel noticed but there was nothing he could do if he stopped, it'd only make you more overwhelmed, so he focused on getting you out.

He did it well - even whilst incredibly overwhelmed and uncomfortable, he made you feel safe and secure.

Once he got you out, he led you immediately to his car but instead of getting in the front, he sat you both in the back so he could hold you.

"Where'd your drink go? Where'd lily go?" He questioned, moving his hand to your cheek, lifting your face up so he could look at you more.

Your eyes were red and puffy and we're welling up again as you tried to speak. "I don't know. One minute she was there and then I-"

It felt too hard to speak - Daniel understood though. He knew where your sentence was heading so there was no need in finishing it anyway. He dragged you into a tight hug again, letting you head rest on his chest and his head rest on top of yours.

The car was silent for a while except from your light cries and the odd whisper of assurance from Daniel. He felt guilty for leaving your side and not making sure you were alright but he understood that that wasn't important now, what's important was making sure you're alright.

"Can we go home please?"

"Are you sure you're ready? I don't mind staying here for a little." His hand was running through your hair carefully, trying to detangle any little knots but also making sure not to hurt you.

"Yeah, can we cuddle at home though?" you smiled, looking up at him. He broke out into his world-famous smile instantly, making it hard not to stare at his lips.

"Absolutely." he grinned, there was no way he was missing out on that and there was no way you'd let him.

He held your hand almost the whole drive home or at least made sure one part of him was touching you constantly, knowing that it'd keep you calm. You couldn't help but smile at him the whole time: he took pride in looking after you - he did it so well, how could he not - and it made you so endlessly grateful for him.

"I love you," you spoke, not taking your eyes off of him as he pulled into your driveway.

He parked up before he responded so he could look at you. He knew you had been staring at him the whole time and was quite jealous that he had to focus on the road rather than you. He knew it'd be okay in the end though: you'd fall asleep on his chest whilst his fingers were tangled in your hair, and he'd spend time staring at you - his favourite thing. He didn't care if he'd be tired in the morning, he didn't care if he'd done it a million times, because every day he thought he reached the limit on how much a person can love somebody else but the next day he breaks it every time.

"I love you too, sweetheart."

f1 masterlist (coming soon) |

#daniel ricciardo #daniel ricciardo fluff #daniel ricciardo x reader #daniel ricciardo smut #daniel ricciardo fanfic #daniel ricciardo drabble #daniel ricciardo angst #daniel ricciardo instagram au #daniel ricciardo x you #daniel riccardo x reader #f1 x reader #f1 #f1 smut #f1 imagine #f1 fanfic #charles leclerc #max verstappen #formula 1 #my writing

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mythunderstorm · 7 months

Text

We‘ll be okay | DR3

Daniel Ricciardo x reader

summary: It’s normal to argue. You know that. But that doesn’t mean it hurts any less, even tho you know you and Daniel will work it out in the end.

warnings: bit angsty, actually not sure what else to say. Soft ending tho

a/n: i‘m so sorry for not posting a lot atm. I have so many drafts but I can’t seem to finish them. Whenever I try to write it’s like my brain shuts off completely. Not even sure if this is any good but it’s the only thing I was able to complete, so enjoy ig haha

masterlist

Arguments. They‘re normal, every couple has to face them at one point. Some argue more, some less. But it’s normal. They happen, you talk it out, you make up. Normal.

You and Daniel argue. Normal. It doesn’t happen often, but it happens. Normal. What wasn’t normal, is that you had to leave the apartment. It wasn’t normal for him to yell at you like this, both of you throwing words at each other you didn’t actually mean. Not normal.

You had to get out, leave for a bit. Before anyone of you says something you can’t take back at the end.

You wander around, aimlessly. It‘s raining, hard. You didn’t bring an umbrella with you, but you didn’t care. The water droplets on your skin felt kind of refreshing.

Your phone beeped, your boyfriend worries about you being alone, out in this weather at night. He sent multiple messages, telling you to come home.

The feeling of relieve fills your chest, glad that he’s still caring about you, even after the fight. But you ignore his messages, at least for now, needing some space to clear your head a bit. He was really mean tonight, something that basically never happened, not like this. You understand that he’s frustrated, not being able to race this season, but that’s not your fault.

Just because you said that you’re glad to spend some more time with him now, happy to have him to yourself for a while, doesn’t mean you don’t support his dreams and career. You’re proud of him, always have been, always will. But being away from him so much is hard and you really really missed him over the last year.

After a while you stop at a little café that was open late. Exactly what you needed right now. You sat by the window, ordering a cup of tea while watching the rain pour.

Your phone beeps once again.

„I'm really worried about you, the weather forecast said that there will be thunder too, you should really come back home.“

Your thoughts and emotions whirle around your head as you stare out the window.

With a sign, you type back a quick message to let him know you’re safe and not outside in this horrible weather. You may be mad at him but you’re not so cruel to let him suffer and worry about your well-being for the rest of the night.

But a part of you still doesn’t want go back home.

You look around the café, noticing that it is completely empty except for you and the barista. It is quiet, calm, peaceful. No one would be yelling at you here. No one would be blaming you for everything.

At first you just needed a break, now... now you needed an escape.

You look out of the window again, watching the raindrops sliding down the glass. It’s like they’re racing against each other. Even something small like rain on a window reminds you of him. It keeps your mind occupied for a while, watching the water glide around the surface but you’re still thinking about him. You’re always thinking about him.

It’s like the weather mirrors your exact feelings at the moment, like it’s trying to tell you that you’re not alone.

You put your phone aside, not responding to the rest of Daniel‘s texts. His mind was always full with thoughts about racing, training and other things related to his profession. And you understand, he loves his job. And you don’t blame him for that.

But you have feelings too, you have feelings that you want him to acknowledge sometimes. You need him to realize that. To recognize how upset you are and how hurt you feel.

Your thoughts spiraled down deeper and deeper as you watch the rain outside. The water droplets, they look like tears.

You sign again, squeezing your eyes shut for a moment. You know you and Daniel will work it out, like you always do. You love him and you know he loves you. Arguments happen and you understand he’s frustrated, even though it’s not okay for him to put the blame on you. You both need some space, time to calm down before you can face each other to actually talk about it. But you‘ll be okay. Everything will be okay in the end.

The rain starts hitting the window harder than before, making it difficult to see the world outside.

Taking a sip of your tea, you look at the clock. It’s already 1 in the morning. You feel a bit guilty. It's late, really late.

You pick up your phone, hesitating as you look at Daniel's last message. He was panicking about the storm and kept telling you that he was worried. You know him, he's usually not the hysterical kind.

„I‘m inside a Café, don’t worry. I‘ll wait a bit until the storm calms before I come home.“

You think for a moment, not sure if you should send the next text. You want to but.. fuck it.

„I love you.“ you type and hit send quickly, before you can change your mind. But you mean it, because you do. You love him.

A notification appears instantly on your phone. It's a message from Daniel. It reads „I love you too."

Your heart skips a beat. Of course, your love still means the world to him.

You close your eyes and picture his face. When Daniel smiles at you, his eyes sparkle in a way that no one else's eyes could. He's so good at showing his emotions through his eyes…

Ding. Another message.

„Please come home honey, I can't take it another second."

You smile softly at the nickname. You look out of the window again, the storm seems to get only worse. You want to go home, right now. But you know it wouldn’t be the best idea, not in this weather. But you don’t care. You pay your tea, tipping the barista generously, before making an exit to finally get home. To the person you love most.

As soon as you enter your apartment you see Daniel standing there, waiting for you. You lock eyes for a moment, neither of you saying anything... It's quiet. The only sound you hear, is from the rain outside.

Daniel is smiling at you, and he starts walking towards you. He softly puts his arms around your drenched body, pulling you close and kissing your forehead gently. Your heart is pounding in your chest, your face is turning red.

„Sorry“ you whisper into his chest, hiding your face in his sweater. You’re tearing up again, breathing in his scent.

"I should be the one to say sorry." You hear Daniel's voice whispering into your hair as he holds you tight. "I was cruel, I should never speak to you like that. Never." His words are soothing to your ears.

Even though you were fighting badly only hours prior, you felt safe. It has been a long time since you felt this safe. Since you felt this protected.

Just then Daniel takes a step back to look at you, as if he was admiring your face. Then he leans in to kiss you, needing to feel that you’re real. That you’re here, that you came home. The kiss only last a few seconds but it’s soft, gentle and full of love.

Yes. You‘ll be okay.

Daniel's lips on your face feel like heaven and you close your eyes, not wanting to let the situation end just yet... but before you could do anything, his hands reach for your face, gently moving you away. For a second, you were scared to look at him but he's just fixing your wet hair.

"Let's get you warm," he smiles as he guides you into the kitchen, the warm light from the lit oven illuminating your face. You enjoy the warmth for a moment while Daniel was already boiling water for some tea.

„I- I‘ll go change into some dry clothes real quick“ you whisper into the quiet kitchen, watching him move around the room to prepare the tea.

Your boyfriend nods and smiles at you, putting his hand on your thigh and giving it a gentle squeeze. "Go ahead, let me make you some tea" he smiles as he pushes your hair away from your face again.

The kettle whistles, it's boiling. Daniel picks it up and pours the hot water into two cups, putting lemon in both of them. The scent of lemon fills the room, mixed with Daniel's cologne.

You disappear into your shared bedroom, quickly getting rid of your wet clothes, throwing them into the hamper. Grabbing one of Daniels Hoodies, you pull it over your head and instantly hold the collar up to your nose, taking in his scent. Wiping your tear stained face with the sleeves, you take a deep breath before returning back to the kitchen where Daniel‘s waiting for you.

He is leaning against the kitchen counter, watching you slowly while the tea waits for you on the table. Two hot cups of tea, steaming up the kitchen.

Looking at his face, you find him smiling at you when he notices you’re wearing his hoodie. He wraps his free arm around you, pulling you close.

He kisses your head softly and whispers in your ear. "Drink it, it will warm you up."

Daniel's arms encircle you, squeezing you like he never wants to let you go.

You didn’t want to ruin the mood but you had to ask. You and Daniel were always good at communicating in the past and you didn’t want to stop now by pushing this argument away, you had to talk about it for the problem to be completely solved.

„We still need to talk. Not now, but.. we need to talk.“ You whisper, leaning closer into Daniels arms, hiding your face in the crook of his neck.

„You're right, we will talk." His voice is soft. „Not now though. For now, let's enjoy this tea. And... let's just be together." Daniel said as he kisses you again on the cheek and your still damp hair brushes against his face.

He was right. You need some rest. It's late, after all. And what happened shouldn't be discussed when you're both tired. Let alone now, when you're so peaceful.

„We‘ll be okay“ you whisper, a short promise. To him and yourself, that your love is stronger than an argument like that. You‘ll work it out. And it‘ll be okay. Like always.

#daniel ricciardo #daniel ricciardo x reader #daniel ricciardo imagine #danny ric #dr3 #dr3 x reader #daniel ricciardo angst #f1 #formula 1 #formula 1 x reader #f1 imagine #f1 angst #f1 fic

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