#daniel ricciardo imagine

[vivwritesfics]

Your Teammate Is Hot

Your brother has had three hot teammates. The experimental one, the fun one, and the love of your life.

Oscar Piastri x reader, (past) Carlos Sainz x reader, (past) Daniel Ricciardo x reader

Warnings: age gap (23-33), smut, foreplay, fingering, blowjob, eating out (mentioned not written), anal (mentioned not written), multiple orgasms, handcuffs (mentioned not written), shibari (mentioned not written), thigh riding, cowgirl position, praise, creampie

4.2k

Oscar traced his fingers over your knuckles. He moved your hand and opened your fingers, laying your hand flat and tracing every line.

"I'm so lucky," he mused, still staring at your hand.

You hadn't taken your eyes off of him since he fell into bed beside you. Your breathing had calmed down since the events of this evening, but you were still aware of the stickiness between your thighs.

Oscar had tried to clean you up, he really had. Utilising both his tongue and a wet flannel, he had tried to lick every drop of cum from between your legs. It had still been seeping out of you as he cleaned you, so he didn't get it all.

You didn't mind, though. He had been giving you the Princess treatment since you walked through the door of his Monaco apartment, quite literally sweeping you off your feet. He kissed you like you were the only thing that mattered.

He carried you to the bed and laid you down, lips still on you. You didn't have to do anything, just lay there while Oscar brought you to orgasm again and again and again.

"I know, right?" You giggled as you wrapped your arms around his neck and laid your head on his chest. His heartbeat was steady beneath his ear.

Before Oscar, you were a little... wild. Your brother was a big shot, always had been. Growing up you couldn't help but feel as if he was the favourite. Good at sport, his hobby was actually going somewhere. And then your baby sister started riding horses... and she was good.

You were just there.

That was why your parents asked your brother to take you to work with him. Show you the world, make you feel important.

You hated it. You hated that your parents thought you needed this. At nineteen you were doing nothing but following your twin around. You, the older twin, relying on your baby brother.

Your wild streak was to be expected.

Oscar was the calm you didn't know you needed.

He wrapped both arms around you and kissed the top of your head. "I love you," he whispered, squeezing you against him.

I love you. Oscar wasn't the first man to say it to you, but he was the first man to mean it.

You stared up at him and kissed his chin. "I love you too, Oscar."

And to think, a year ago you were forbidden to go near him. All because your brother thoughts he couldn’t be trusted.

Maybe because, as history proved, you couldn't.

1. Carlos Sainz - 2019/20 (The experimental phase)

At nineteen years old, you were incredibly proud of your baby brother. Baby by only five minutes, but you had held that five minutes over him for your entire lives.

For his first year in Formula One, you were to be by his side. Watching him, following him, meeting his incredibly attractive fellow drivers.

Lando's teammate was something else.

Carlos Sainz. Older than you and incredibly attractive. You hadn't spoken many words to you, but you hung onto every one of them.

Fuck, you wanted him.

Your brother wasn't like other nineteen year olds. He didn't want to do any of the things you wanted to, didn't want to go out partying or drinking, like you would have if you had gone to university.

That was the only reason you wanted to go, for the party aspect of it. But instead you were following your brother from F1 track to F1 track.

Another one of the young drivers, another rookie, invited yourself and Lando to the club after a race. George Russell, you knew him. Lando had been racing against him for years.

Lando went to say no, but you clamped you hand over his mouth. "We'll see you there," you said. Lando glared at you as you released his mouth.

The club was the first time you kissed your brothers teammate. No words were exchanged between you, and anything you said would have been lost to the music thumping in the club.

His lips were soft against yours, hands warm on your hips. You wrapped your arms around him and pressed yourself against him. Carlos held you as your body moved, grinding on him. His hands slipped down from your hips, fingertips grazing the bottom of your dress as he held your ass.

It was the alcohol clouding his judgement, that was how Carlos justified it to himself. He wouldn’t touch his teammates twin sister under any other circumstances.

The rest of the season was spent ignoring you.

Lando's second season in Formula One and you were still following him around. It had become your job, of sorts, to post content of you travelling the world and attending races.

You were living the dream.

Things were tense between yourself and your brothers teammate. He refused to talk to you, refused to look at you, but you could still taste him. A year later and you still knew the feeling of him on your lips, remembered his hands holding your bum.

It wasn't fair.

You wanted him, his attention. But he didn't want you.

With every race, you only got hotter. It was becoming harder and harder to look away from you, and it wasn’t just Carlos Sainz that thought so.

The entire grid started looking at you. Attention you revelled in. If somebody got too close, looked at you a little too long, Carlos would come swooping in to save you. The attention from the rest of the grid was nice, but this was the attention you wanted.

Of course, Carlos tried to justify it. He was looking out fir the sister of his teammate, of his friend. But the look in his eye told a different story.

The catalyst had been Charles Leclerc. He was cute in every way a person could be cute. The worst part was the way you clung onto him, squeezing his bicep and giggling at every unfunny joke.

Watching you flirt was his future teammate pushed Carlos over the edge.

That was how you found yourself standing in his hotel room. As soon as he sent his room number through Instagram, you were there.

And now you were standing in his hotel room, staring at him. "Seriously? Flirting with my future teammate?" He stepped closer to you. "You think that's going to get my attention?"

Folding your arms over your chest, you raised your chin in defiance. "Well, it worked," you said as you looked at him. But then you dropped your arms and let a sly smile cross your face. "I think I've got all of your attention now."

Your back hit the door as he pressed his lips against down. It was different to how it was a year ago in the club. He was a man starved, the only thing that could satiate his hunger being you.

You raised your leg and Carlos grabbed your thigh. He held it against himself and pressed against you. Fuck, you could feel all of him through his shorts, your skirt doing little to separate the both of you. You moved, just a little with how he was holding you.

Carlos pulled you away from the door. You followed him, whimpering as he pushed you down onto his bed. You watched as Carlos fell to his knees in front of you. He pulled off your shoes and socks and pulled them to one side.

On his knees, he could see everything. Your thighs, the underwear beneath your skirt. His hands touched your thighs, travelled beneath your skirt. Your breath hitched as he touched your underwear.

"Fucking hell, Carlos," you said through a breath. "Just touch me."

He obeyed. Swiftly pulling your underwear down your legs, Carlos finally touched you. Light touches, not enough for you. You didn't realise when your hips began moving, pushing against his hand. "Please," you whined, not quite enough to make you moan.

It was so damn frustrating. And it was all intentional.

Finally, Carlos took pity on you. He pushed just two fingers inside of you. A cry left your lips and you threw your head back. "Is this what you wanted?" He asked, his voice almost mocking you.

You nodded your head, still rolling your hips against his hand. This thumb pressed against your clit and your eyes squeezed shut. "Yes," you said through a breath, your lips shaking.

Never before had a man touched you like this.

Carlos moved his fingers inside of you. His other hand rested on your thigh, fingers brushing your skin. It was like he could tell how inexperienced you were. Not a virgin, but inexperienced. No man had taken the time to do such things fingering you before.

He added a third finger and you tried to squeeze your legs shut around his hand. But he opened your legs and slotted himself between them, keeping them open.

Too much. Too full. His fingers were skilful, curling inside of you. He muttered something, a praise you would later realise. But your moans were too loud and desperate, waiting on that ledge for a moment that would never come.

Carlos pulled his fingers away. "No!" You cried, but you watched as he placed his fingers between his lips.

He closed his eyes and moaned around them as he tasted you. "So sweet," he muttered and stood up. He wiped the mixture of spit and you onto his jeans and reached for his shorts.

As Carlos dropped his shorts, you pulled your shirt from your body. You threw it onto the floor and reached back to unhook your bra.

Sweet Jesus, he was big. Hard in his boxers as he stood at the end of the bed. Getting onto your hands and knees, you crawled towards him. You looked up into his pretty brown eyes as you reached for his boxers, felt him through the material.

A hiss left his lips. Your hands weren't on him properly, only touching him through his boxers. But then your mouth was on him, kissing him and sucking him through the boxers.

Carlos wrapped his fingers around your hair. He moved you away, tugging at your hair slightly. "Don't tease," he growled and you pouted up at him.

But you obeyed.

Pulling down his boxers, you watched him spring free. His cock hit his stomach, your eyes following it as if you were in a trance. "C'mon," he said.

No, you hadn't done this before. You breathed in, shaking off the slight nerves, and wrapped your lips around him.

The moan that left Carlos's lips was enough to get you moving. It was so pretty, so damn deep, going right through you.

Here was the thing, your lack of experience left you unable to breath as you sucked his dick. Carlos used your hair to pull you off of him. "Breathe," he said, and you did just that. "Breathe for me."

You nodded as best as you could in the way you were behind held. After sucking in a few breaths, you went right back to it. One hand moved up and down his dick, following your mouth as your other hand held you up.

But then, he pulled you off of him. Neither of you had finished yet and you were desperate for him. "Please," you whined as he laid you back.

There was something so sweet in the way Carlos Sainz fucked you. He held your hips as he pistoned his cock in and out of you. Every moan and whine and cry that left your lips, every time your back arched off of the bed, spurred him on.

You came several times that night. You came around him, not allowed a moment of reprieve before he began again. Sweat stuck to your skin and you gripped the sheet, Just needing something to hold onto, something to ground you before you floated away in ecstasy.

You lost count of how many times you moaned out his name, voice hoarse by the time he pulled out of you. Desperately you tried to catch your breath, unable to move from the bed.

Carlos said back. He himself was breathless as he looked down at you. "Fucking hell," you gasped out, staring at him. "That was..."

But there were no words for what that was. Incredible didn't do it justice.

But the night didn't last much longer. Carlos cleaned you up and send you on your way, helping you to get dressed before you left for your own hotel room.

Carlos was what you liked to call your experimental phase. There were several things you tried with him that you never expected to try with anybody. He was the first man to eat you out, the first man you tried anal with. He had black fluffy cuffs around your wrists one day, had you tied up like a pretty present the next. Just a testament to how good he made you feel, you were willing to try anything with him.

But then he left for Ferrari.

Daniel Ricciardo - 2021/22 (The fun phase)

When Daniel Ricciardo started driving with your brother, you didn't know how to feel.

It was an odd time with you. You had stopped seeing the first man to make you really feel alive. Not that you were really seeing him, anyway. No, you were just fucking him.

(You should have known it was just fucking. But the dinners and the presents made it seem like it was so much more. To Carlos, it wasn't. He was just fucking you, just finding entertainment with you. But his move to Ferrari was his chance to get serious about his career, and he couldn't have any distractions. At least, that was how he justified it to you).

Daniel Ricciardo tried with you. But, for the first time in three years, you were rarely at races.

Your first job proper job. Not just a content creator promoting things for her sponsors. You had a proper, proper job (not that content creation isn't a proper job, as you had explained to your parents).

But you hated it. You hated being suck in an office, hated answering to a boss who was a total perv. But, as you promised your family you would, you stuck it out.

For six months.

Six months after you started your first proper job, your Instagram started up again. It was immediately a hit, immediately getting hundreds of thousands of likes per post. Your first post back was flooded with comments welcoming you back to the social media site.

You didn't tell your family about your career move until you were back at the attending races. And you didn't exactly tell them, waited for your twin brother to do it for you. The moment you appeared in Hungary to watch your brother race, he was texting your family group chat.

Daniel really tried with you. He was kind, always saying hello whenever he saw you. The thing was, you were still bitter about Carlos. You missed having him in the garage, missed sneaking away to his drivers room. Instead, you had Daniel here.

He was hot, that much you could tell. Older than you, but that seemed to be your type.

But he was a lot older than you, ten years older than you. So old that you didn't even consider it.

One day, Daniel was just sitting there, drinking his coffee before practice. Sitting in the sun with his McLaren hat on his head, just enjoying his time alone.

"Can I look at your tattoos?"

He looked at you, stood there in a sundress. You were beautiful, that was obvious to him. But you were ten years younger than him and his teammates twin sister.

"Sure," Daniel said and you sat opposite him.

He stretched his arms out. You started with his hands, looking at the tattoos he had on his fingers. You traced over him, your every touch sending a shiver up his spine. "I like the one on your leg," you said as your fingertips followed the lines of the cupid on his arm.

"Which one?" He asked and laughed. He had a pretty laugh.

That was how your friendship started. And that was all that it was, a friendship. The two of you spend more and more time together, company while you once again attended every race.

Nothing happened between you and Daniel during his first season as Lando's teammate. You got close, but that was it. No kissing, no sex, nothing like what happened with Carlos.

At first, you were trying to make him jealous. In your head, Carlos was the best thing that ever happened to you. (When future you looked back at it, you were dead wrong. He was a fun time, but that was about it. There was nothing real between the two of you).

Even after winter break, you and Daniel were just a close. Your friendship was taken off of the track, watching movies together in the hotel during race weekends, when neither of you wanted to be alone in an unfamiliar area.

That was the first time you kissed him. The movie had gotten a little steamy and the popcorn in his lap had been forgotten. The bowl was pushed to the floor, spilling the popcorn across the hotel room carpet as you climbed into his lap.

Daniel kissed you back, a mess of tongues and teeth before he pulled away. "Are you sure?"

It had been so long since you'd had any fun. It was pathetically desperate, the way you nodded and moved forward for another kiss. "Please, Danny." You pouted against his lips.

He took pity on you, hands travelling down to hold your ass. You whined as he moved you, rocked you against his bulge. He swallowed each of your whines and squeezed your flesh between his big hands.

You had ridden Carlos's thick thigh in the past. Pulling off Daniel's trousers, you looked at all of the colour he had, the ink on his thigh. You touched him, ran your fingers over it. "Can I?" You asked, and Daniel asked.

You pulled off your pyjama shorts and dropped them to the floor. Your hips shook with every step as you walked towards him and climbed back onto his lap. Naked from the waist down, you sat on his thigh.

Your naked cunt touched his skin. Hands on his shoulders, you began moving yourself. Back and forth, wriggling against him, anything to create friction. Daniel tensed his thigh, lifted it slightly and pressed it against you.

Moans and cries filled his hotel room. "Fuck," he grunted as he watched you, painfully hard in his underwear.

Your hand slipped down his chest and into his underwear. You touched him, felt how hard he was. "Daniel," you whined, eyes squeezed shut and head thrown back.

It was such a sight. You were so damn gorgeous as you rode his thigh, brought yourself closer to orgasm. His fingers came to touch you, did all he needed to do to push you over the edge.

And he succeeded. Your body shudders as you came on his thigh. Your body slumped forward and Daniel grabbed hold of you. His hand was warm as he rubbed your back. "You did so good," he said and kissed the top of your head.

The both of you were still half clothed when you pulled him from his boxers. He was so pretty, leaking from his tip. You swiped your thumb over it and pulled it up to your lips, sucking it into your mouth.

"Can I?" You asked and looked down as his cock.

Daniel scooted down the bed. He held you, scooting you down with him to get himself into a better position. You threw one leg over his other, seating yourself fully into his lap.

Your eyes went wide as you sank down onto him. "Fuck," You hissed, shutting your eyes as you pressed your forehead to his shoulder. "Jesus, Daniel."

"I know," he whispered, his voice gentle. "I've got you."

And he did have you. He began moving his hips, fucking up into you. He was so damn big, filling you up completely. Every thrust had a moan leaving your lips.

Your hands gripped his shoulders, nails digging into him. You cried his name against and again and against, getting closer and closer to the edge. Already sensitive from your earlier orgasm, it wasn't long before Daniel sent you over the edge.

But he kept going, kept fucking you. "Squeezing me so damn tight," he grunted, wrapping his arms around you to hold you up.

He scooted further down the bed, his grip growing tighter to keep himself inside of you. He kept you on top of him and let his hands travel down, holding your ass as he fucked you. So damn close, he couldn't get enough of you.

His hips stuttered. Every thrust he made was punctuated with a grunt. And, finally, he came inside of you.

"Shit, fuck," he cried as he pulled you off of him. "Fuck, I didn't mean to."

You blinked at him, head a little foggy. But then it all started to make sense. "It's okay," you said and laid down beside him, your hand on his chest. "I'm on the pill."

He blinked at you, searched your face. "Seriously?" He asked, but the look on your face told him everything he needed to know. You were telling the truth. He pulled you close and kissed the top of your head.

It never went further than that. You fucked again, giggling as he ate you out (like seriously, that nose?).

Oscar Piastri - 2023/24/25 (The love of your life)

You weren't going to fuck Lando's next teammate. He was younger than you, and that alone made him not your type. He was cute, sure, but that was it. Just cute.

Just like you had with Carlos, you found yourself missing Daniel. Pouting as you walked around the garage, pouting as he walked around the paddock. It wasn't like you could just go and hang out with him. No, he was gone.

But then Red Bull brought him back. And they kept him busy. Too busy for him to hang around with you.

Here you were again, sitting in the McLaren garage, lonely while your brother became a star. 2023 and 2024 really were the year Lando became a star. Watching him grow was incredible, but it was easy to want something more for yourself.

At first, you avoided Oscar. Well, not exactly avoided, but you had no reason to seek him out. He was a rookie who definitely looked up to your brother. And there was nothing wrong with that, but you had dealt with too many people trying to become your friend for the sake of getting close to Lando.

But that wasn't Oscar.

You didn't know that wasn't Oscar. You weren't willing to find out. Lando wanted you to stay way, too. Especially after what happened with Carlos and Daniel.

But Oscar was sweet. He was the kind of guy who would see you sitting alone and bring you a coffee. Not because he wanted anything, just because he didn't want you to be sitting alone.

You took the coffee, nodding when he asked if he could sit. You didn't make conversation with him like you did with Carlos and Daniel, didn't want to make conversation with him. It wasn't flirty and touchy like it had been between Carlos and Daniel.

He made the conversation. It seemed effortless, the way he got you talking when you were unwilling. But, before you knew it, your coffee had gone told because you were too busy chatting to him.

This didn't spark a friendship, not like it did with Daniel and Carlos. The more he spoke, the more you learned about him, the cuter he became. You just couldn't help it.

Soon, Oscar had you a mess. The next time you saw each other, you stumbled over your words and your face was hot. Lando watched as you struggled to get three words out to Oscar, eyebrows pinched together in a frown.

He knew what it was instantly. Somebody had a crush. (And that somebody was you).

Oscar asked you out. It wasn't like how anything had happened before. No, he approached you with flowers and asked you to dinner. A date. A real date. Part of you couldn't believe it. The more you got to know about Oscar, the more you didn't believe about Oscar.

He was just too good to be true.

Oscar Piastri was the first man to walk into the paddock holding your hand. He kissed your head in the garage and pulled you close after races. He hugged you, the barrier between you when he was on the podium and showed you the best night of your life after.

You didn't expect one of your brothers teammates to be the love of your life. But he was.

He was the man you were going to marry.

[thef1diary]

i had a through in the bus on my way home. a horny thought if i'm being honest.

so my thought was for dirtbag!daniel, but it could honestly work for anyone. so what if, a handjob (or something that requires your hand to be there) because he deserves some nice, special attention, and to tease or something, you use your nails, but not like rough if it makes sense? i don't even know if that like would ever work tbh

— horny thoughts on the bus is a must loll I always end up thinking of the filthiest ideas while commuting too 😭 this works perfect for dirtbag!danny. 18+ content below

Daniel sits back on the couch, legs spread wide, watching you with an intensity that sets your skin alight. He’s naked, his toned chest rising and falling steadily, a subtle smirk playing on his lips as you settle between his thighs. Your gaze remains locked on his as you trail your nails lightly up his inner thigh. His breath catches just slightly, a subtle flinch in his muscles, and your lips curve into a teasing smile.

“Something wrong?” you ask, your tone mock-innocent as your nails continue their path, grazing the sensitive skin just shy of where he wants you most. You keep your touch featherlight, letting the tips of your nails barely scrape along the edges of his groin, knowing it’s enough to make him twitch.

His cock is already hard, flushed, and twitching against his abdomen, the sight alone making your mouth water. Daniel’s jaw clenches, his head tipping back as he exhales a shaky breath.

“You gonna sit there and stare all day?” he asks, his voice low and teasing, but there’s an edge of tension to it, like he’s barely holding himself together.

You hum softly, pretending to consider. “I don’t know,” you say, your hand drifting closer. “You deserve some love.”

His cock jerks at your words, the thick vein running along the underside twitching in response. You don’t touch him there yet. Instead, your nails trace the crease of his hip, dragging slowly upward, just barely scraping along the heated skin. His thighs flex under your touch, the tension coiling in him palpable.

“Fuck,” he mutters, his voice strained, his hands gripping the couch like he’s holding himself back. “You’re gonna drive me insane.”

Your grin widens, and finally, you wrap your hand around him, slow and deliberate, squeezing just enough to make him groan. You lean forward and spit directly onto the head, letting the saliva drip down his length. Without breaking eye contact, you spread the slickness with your hand, your thumb circling the tip, grazing over the slit in a way that makes his hips jerk.

“Sensitive tonight, huh?” you tease, your other hand joining in, nails lightly grazing the base before wrapping around him. The contrast of your firm grip and teasing touch has him trembling beneath you, his breaths coming faster.

“Keep talking, see what happens,” Daniel murmurs, his voice low and dangerous, but his smirk betrays him. He’s enjoying every second of this, as much as he tries to act otherwise.

You drag your nails up his cock this time, just enough pressure to send a shiver through him without being rough. The wet glide of your palm follows, slick and smooth, and you pick up the pace slightly, alternating between steady strokes and teasing scratches along the thick vein.

“You’re so pretty like this,” you murmur, your voice soft but laced with amusement. “All needy and desperate for me.”

Daniel groans, his head falling back, exposing the column of his throat. His adam’s apple bobs as he swallows hard, the sight making heat pool low in your belly. His thighs tense, the muscles shifting under the tattoos, and you can feel the effort it takes for him not to take control.

Your nails scrape gently over the sensitive underside of his cock, drawing a hiss from him, followed by a low, guttural moan as you tighten your grip again. You lean in, letting your breath ghost over him, watching as his abs contract.

“Bet you’d love to cum all over my hand, wouldn’t you?” you whisper, your tone dripping with mockery. “You’re so easy for me.”

Daniel’s response is a broken laugh, his hands flexing on the couch before one comes up to tangle in your hair. “Careful,” he mutters, his voice strained but still full of his usual cocky edge. “You’re getting a little too comfortable.”

You grin, your nails dragging up his length again before circling the head, your touch featherlight but deliberate. His hips buck into your hand, his composure cracking further with every stroke. The wet sounds fill the room, obscene and unrelenting, and you can see how close he is, his body trembling under your touch.

“Cum for me,” you murmur, your grip tightening as you pump him faster, your nails grazing his base with every pass. “Show me how much you like this.”

Daniel’s groan is wrecked, his body tensing as he spills over your hands, hot and sticky. You stroke him through it, drawing out every last wave, your touch slowing only when his breathing evens out.

When you finally let go, licking your palm clean, you glance up to find him watching you, a smug grin tugging at his lips despite the wrecked look in his eyes.

“You’re lucky I like your games,” Daniel laughs, the sound low and breathless.

You grin back, leaning in to press a quick kiss to his jaw. “You wouldn’t survive without them.”

want more dirtbag!danny? send me an ask with your filthiest thoughts and it’ll get answered during one of my dirty drabble days

[bonbonly]

bon's thoughts (18+) a/n: the way i did all my chores in under an hour i am exhausted and damn this is a long ass thought

college!au daniel ricciardo who's the class clown, sweet with the professors and still gets the top grades of the class. he's sitting in the front, casually talking to the professor during the first day of the semester when someone clears his throat behind him. "excuse me, if you're done with your little chat, i have some questions to ask," you clear your throat, crossing your arms with a disgruntled expression. he raises an eyebrow at you, trying to process that attitude at 8:30 in the morning.

"somebody woke up on the wrong side of bed," he chuckles, sending a playful smile to the professor, before taking a step back with his hands in the air, letting you ask your so-called questions.

office hours, extra help with homework, tutoring sessions held in the library. you were asking for every single resource known to mankind for your course, diligently writing them down on a sticky note as you bit your bottom lip, deep in thought. and then you ask a question that really irks him - being a ta for the next semester. there was only one spot left, and daniel was so sure that he was going to get it until miss strawberry shortcake - you were dressed in all red and white, dash of pink on your skirt - decided to stroll in and take what's his. he had a reputation in college for being on top of things, despite his sense of humor and outgoing personality. he watches you push past him, your head held high and he takes note of the way your ass sways as you walk away with a buttload of pride. huh, this is going to be a fun little challenge for him.

it starts off small: answering questions in class, and then it grew to asking questions. daniel starts to read the lectures a week ahead than necessary, jotting down anything he could to try and outdo you. you'd show up to office hours only to see daniel already there with a smile on his face, chatting happily with your professor. you'd narrow your eyes at him, your lips straightening into a thin line as he saunters into the professor's office to occupy most of the older man's time. volunteering events would consist of you and daniel being paired together, internships were being fought and so were mock interviews.

you got more and more tired of having to deal with daniel, and your last straw was at the library when he shows up to the study room that you took hours to find, knocking on the glass door with a scoff, "i booked this room, shortcake. you'll need to find somewhere else to study."

"i just sat down," you grumble, "you can take the other empty seat."

"no can do. i got friends coming over to study with me. you're gonna have to leave."

"i'm not leaving."

his eyes widen, a smirk on his lips, "wow. miss shortcake's a little bold today, isn't she?"

"stop calling me that" you hiss, standing up and he shuts the door behind him, "you're so full of yourself, you know that? You think you'll get the ta position for professor barker, but no actually. i'll get it, because i'm better, smarter and more competent than you! you can't do shit to me!"

daniel's laughing at your outbursts, finding it very adorable that you're so stuck-up and egoistical. he's also laughing when he has you bent over the table, hiking up your skirt as he settles onto his knees. he pushes your panties to the side, inhaling your sweet scent as you're already bucking your hips to his face, aching for some relief. he shuold've known the day you showed up to office hours just 2 seconds later than him, when you pushed him away with your ass grinding against him, he should've known that you were getting off having an academic rival to fuck. he licks a long stripe of your cunt, wrapping his lips around your folds as he hums at how good you taste, how good you smell. his nose nudges against your clit, his hands wrapping around your thighs to bring you closer to the edge of the table. his head bobs as he continue to flick his tongue over your clit, letting his saliva trail down your gummy folds. his tongue probes your hole, and you can feel his grin against your inner thighs when you moan out loud, hands flying to grip his curls, pulling him closer for added pressure. he pulls away and spits on your cunt, massaging your clit with his thumb as he gazes up at your dazed state, knowing you're chasing your orgasm rather than good grades.

"sweetest cunt i've ever tasted by the way," he exclaims, "maybe i should just give you the ta position..." he pauses to glance at the way your cunt's clenching around nothing, weeping to be filled up. he pulls out his phone, "smile for the picture, shortcake!"

you whine as his thumb's pace falters slightly, wishing he'd go faster or take out his cock and fill you up. patience wasn't really your thing. that was for sure. as if he read your mind, his thumb pulls back from your clit, his shorts coming down with his cock springing out to greet you. you're whimpering when you feel him slide against your cunt, his camera zooming in to see the way your pretty pussy's begging to take him. begging to be filled up.

the sound of students passing down the hallway makes you tilt your head out the glass door to see who's approaching when all of a sudden, daniel takes this opportunity to immediately bury his cock to the hilt, relishing in the way your gasps echo around the study room, head thrown back and your back already arching for him. he's not necessarily gently with you, tossing the phone to the side as he grips your hips, giggling at the way your tits bounce back and forth for him... only him.

"maybe i shouldn't give you the ta position... what if you'd be just a slut, hm? just fucking random college students next semester? you're not really proving much to the university with your legs spread like this, sweetheart," he groans when your pussy clenches around his cock, your walls tracing ever vein on his shaft as his pace quickens, unrelentless as it is. tears stream down your face at how good you feel, how he fills you up to the brim. his words are just mumbles in your ears as he continues to talk about how you clearly know a lot more than him: "who would've thought the stuck-up princess knew more than just academics... she knows how to take my cock like she was made for it. oh fuck," daniel throws his head back when your walls squeeze around him again, "damn, also didn't know you were into dirty talk, wow you're full of surprises."

he ignores the way you narrow your eyes at him, mouth hung open with your moans crying out to him like a lullaby. he grips onto your jaw as his hips snaps against yours, prying your mouth open wider, "tongue open, baby."

you do as he says, so far out of it and he spits into your mouth, smiling when your eyes roll back, your back arching as you scream with his name like a chant on your lips. your cunt gushes around his cock, juices flying out onto your notes underneath you. he covers your loud whines when his thumb circles your clit harshly, his cock still punishing your poor cunt, "i might need some more convincing to let you be the ta. you know i've had my mind set for that position since last year. if you cum as many times as i want, i might let you take it.... key note: might."

his lips wrap around yours to swallow your moans, guiding your hands to wrap around his neck as his cock pushes deeper into you, his chest pressed against your bare tits. if you're ta, he might have you suck his cock every night as an apology for taking his job. but that's a thought for the next semester.

[chrisdr3]

Aussie kisses ~ DR3

Smut

Daniel x Reader

Warnings: oral (female recieving), a bit of swearing

Dual POV

Summary: Reader has a wet dream and Danny wakes them up wiht an unusual way.

Daniel's POV

I got to our bedroom, sweaty and stinky from my workout. Y/n was sprawled out on our bed, one of my shirts barely covering her whiles she took her nap. Damn, she looked so sexy like that. I kissed her forehead and took a pair of boxers before going to shower. I grabbed my towel and headed in.

I stood beneath the hot water, leaning on the wall for a bit. Then I started showering. I finished and wore my boxers, left the towel to dry and got back to our room. I opened the door and got in. She had changed position, now laying on her side, her body curled up and her breathing a bit louder than before. My Her shirt had ridden up, revealing her bare ass and thighs.

That sight alone turned me on, and then she whimpered. I got close and sat on the bed watching her. She turned to the other side, facing me. She was grasping the sheets and her lips parted, letting out a little groan. I looked down at her hips. Her thighs were glistening a bit. She groaned, this time it was my name.

My little girl was having a naughty dream about me. My dick instantly hardened and an urge to fuck her overwhelmed me. Fuck, she was so beautiful, so hot like that. I approached her and got on top of her, opening her legs easily with my hand. Her thighs and core were so soaked, that I could nearly sense her throbbing.

I slid two fingers across her folds, feeling her wetness and she responded with a whimper. She was too damn wet, only by a dream. Fucking hell. I was rock hard, the fabric of my boxers straining. I needed to do something about it now. My arms wrapped around her inner thighs holding them wide open and I laid down in between them. I got my mouth closer and exhaled, testing her. She then tried to turn sideways. I held her in place and gave her a small kiss. Seeing that she wasn't moving now, I started licking and sucking her clit.

I went slow for a bit and then started picking up my pace, my tongue thrusting in and out of her hole, my nose bumping against her now swollen clit. She moaned again and her body tensed up, then calmed down in a swift moment. I looked up and saw a hazy pair of eyes looking at mine.

Your POV

You woke up suddenly, something wet and hot invading you, and a feeling that you were held down. You just woke up from a dirty dream about Daniel, only to see your boyfriend looking at you from between your legs. He looked at you for a sec and then he continued eating you out without mercy.

He replaced his tongue with two fingers and started moving them in and out as his warm tongue moved to your clit and started licking it. His beard scratched your thighs adding a burning sensation, sending waves of overwhelming pleasure to your body. His mouth did wonders on you, the amount of pleasure you received insane.

He started teasing you, in order to catch his breath, by stopping and blowing some air on your exposed clit. It didn't take long until you reached your high, your orgasm practically exploding and filling his face.

He laid down next to you, breathless. "That was... amazing." You whispered, your breathing returning to normal. You both laid down for some time, and when he fully calmed down, he got up and returned shortly after with a damp cloth.

Daniel sat down and pulled you close, cleaning you up gently and carefully. By the time he was done, you had fallen asleep on him. He smiled, threw the cloth somewhere in the room and kissed your head as he laid down with you.

[andcars]

ㅤ [ 𝗢𝗡 𝗖𝗔𝗠𝗘𝗥𝗔 ]

premise. a brief introduction to the streamer who's about to ruin your life. scrolling through twitch mindlessly, you stumble upon probably the weirdest yet most arousing stream of your life

tags #ㅤdaniel ricciardo/female reader, alternate universe — twitch streamers, softcore porn streamer daniel ricciardo, suggestive content, open ending, this is more like an epilogue than anything wc #ㅤ .6k

ㅤㅤFEEL FREE TO INBOX ME FOR THOUGHTS OR REQUESTS !

| MASTERLIST⠀REQUEST ME⠀TAGLIST⠀PATREON GUIDE⠀AO3

Every single one of your favourite streamers is dead. Okay, not literally. When you opened up Twitch today, not a single one was streaming as expected. You scroll endlessly and try to find someone new to interact with—just the same old games and topics. You’re procrastinating every part of your life right now. Twitch needs to be your getaway, the paperwork isn’t quite fond in your eyes.

“Whatever You Say”

It’s written in a video of a man leaning back against his chair. The framing of the camera exposes his face down to his crotch—the shorts of his expose the image tattooed on his thigh. It’s almost lewd. His shirt is slightly pulled up, exposing just a bit of his pelvis and the boxers he’s wearing. It’s perverted. Holy fuck, the framing of the thumbnail and the title of the stream just wakes you up from your idle scrolling.

Clicking into the stream, you weren’t sure what else to expect. He’s laughing when you load in, only a hundred in the stream but all of them talkative. “Is that it? That’s all it takes?” he asks, looking at the side—assuming to be where chat is placed on his computer— as he smiles ear to ear. The Australian accent surprises you a little. It’s a bit thick yet understandable. He laughs again, the entire chat screaming out affirmations in different ways. “Alright,” he says, “Whatever you say. Payment first though?”

Everyone rushes a user. It surprises you when 5000 bits get donated—a whole fifty. Jesus fucking Christ. The streamer doesn’t look surprised and just claps, clearly impressed. “Good girl.” That made you feel something. Before you know it, he starts to strip. He doesn’t strip hurried, it’s teasing, almost. He adjusts his camera first, properly showing off his torso as he scoots his chair back. His eyes move from chat to the camera, gripping the ends of his shirt and tugging on it as if that would help him strip. It’s slowly pulled off, the eye contact never lessens, and it makes you feel like you’re in the room with him. His eyelids dimmer and when the shirt is pulled over him, he lets his arm stay in the air for a second. Seconds feel much longer when you’re staring. He puts his arm down and bundles the shirt together before throwing it behind and to his bed.

“See? I told you I have a tattoo here,” he points at his arm, flexing it needlessly as he tilts his body to show the camera. “And here,” he puts his finger to his chest, protruding it a little, “and of course on my hand, as you know,” he rests his hand against his pec, gripping a little to show how it flexes. Your eyes don’t leave the screen, his eyes don’t leave you—the camera either. It’s obscene how easily he goes to show off his body for the camera. The low lighting of his room is obscured by the harsh lighting by, what you assume to be, a ring light. It frames his muscles too well. It makes it look sculpted.

“You’ve quieted down,” he says, voices sultry and low. “Everyone quieted down. What’s up with that?” he asks as if he doesn’t know the truth. He lets the chat slowly talk again, only leaning back with his arms underneath his ass. He’s putting his hips slightly forward, spreading his legs more to pull up the shorts further up—the tattoo getting more visible. It’s a ship of sorts. Not like that matters, just the sight is worthwhile. He’s not saying anything. He doesn’t need to. You know he’s well aware of the effect he has on these people. It’s fucking annoying. You subscribe to him—D3R.

@delululeclerc @rtorresblog @jamie2305

FOOTNOTE ────── i was gonna put this on the patreon but it's too short for anything LMAO. this is more like an introductory post but when my requests are up again i hope ya'll request for him :p I need ideas on how to continue this hehe

[nottivagos]

HEY YOU! CMERE! Welcome Notti's "Not So Innocent" Notebook where I write some filth to make your Friday a little bit better <3 || 18+ mdni pls and ty

an: this was all brainstormed with the lovely @emchante & @orangeblossomsintheair,, love u both so much for giving me the confidence to make this a thing!! 💕

Introducing... Divorced Mechanic AU : DR3

Running a garage isn't easy, but when you're Mechanic!Daniel Ricciardo who's just freshly out of a divorce, it's even more tough. He's sexually pent up, frustrated that his wife left him, with the audacity of ostracising him from his kids, and now realising he has no one to fuck.

So when you, a ditzy receptionist, obviously only hired because of your looks and not your brains, you quickly become his next target. Deep down he knows it's wrong, very wrong. You're noticeably younger than he is, let alone anyone in the garage, but there's something about you that just pulls him in.

Divorced Mechanic!Danny who's uncaring about his looks. He hasn't got a wife to criticise him or impress anymore, so why should he give a fuck about his appearance? He's grown an unruly mullet, facial hair grown out more than usual whilst becoming slightly salt and peppered, the once baggy overalls hugging his stomach and muscles ever so much more tightly, showing off his large arms and new found softer belly. He's even now turned to smoking as an outlet to cope with the pent up stress the divorce brought him, which you've commented on out of concern, just to be met with a tensed jaw and an angry mutter about how you're "trying to fill the void of his wife".

Divorced Mechanic!Danny who's actually the softest brute you've ever met. Despite his angry demeanor as he works in the garage, he'll always look over you. Large hands coming to rest on your shoulders out of the blue whilst your eyes are fixated on the computer, as he asks how you're doing, offering to help if necessary as he subconsciously kneeds the knots in your shoulder muscles. He's always there to defend you, no, protect you. Especially when you're teary eyed after a customer has shouted at you, calling you a "useless clutz". To the extent that he's grabbed the jerk by the collar of his shirt, twisting it as he tells them to scram with a snarl. The client scampers away, before he turns all his attention to you, large hands cupping your burning cheeks as he mutters his apologies, whilst asking if you're okay. You're speechless, the space between you suffocating as you appreciate his softer features up close for the first time. He really is like a caring bear. <3

Divorced Mechanic!Danny who's sees you waiting in the rain for your bus after work, completely drenched and shivering. He pulls onto the side of the road, car window coming down as he signals for you to get into the car with a caring grunt. You happily comply, as you say your "thank yous" to him for his kindness. He responds with another grunt, the car eerily quiet. That's when you see a tattoo on his arm with the name of a woman on it. You ask who the woman is, and his jaw locks into place, grip on the steering wheel tighter than it was originally. That must be the ex wife. You ask him if he misses her, to which he replies with a grind of his teeth before glancing at you briefly, muttering a "fuck no" underneath his breath. You apologise multiple times, not realising how much of a sore subject it is to him. He responds with a gentle hand resting on your thigh, reassuring that's it's all good. He then goes onto telling you about his kids who he rarely sees because of the divorce, and in that moment you see a softness that you'd never seen in the mechanic before.

Divorced Mechanic!Danny who's spoilt by your baking. As a result of his kindness in driving you home, you bake him a sweet treat as a way to say thank you. He grumbles a "you didn't have to" as he examines the cakes in the tupperware, but his eyes are soft and thankful for the gift. It then becomes a normality that you bake him a sweet treat for the end of the week, the tradition becoming known as "Cake Friday" in the workshop. <3

Divorced Mechanic!Danny who snaps at you after suggesting he turns his loud divorced dad rock down during a very stressful day in the workshop. He bellows in your face that it'll "be the best music you've ever heard" whilst working there, leaving you upset and silent as a result. He gets a pang of guilt after this, coming back over to the desk to apologise, offering you the AUX tomorrow as a way to say sorry, reassuring you that your colleagues will have a "talking to" if they criticise what you play all day.

Divorced Mechanic!Danny that pounds into you angrily after you mess up for the millionth time this week, fucking you dumb because that's what he only thinks you're made for, as he grunts insults into your ear gruffly. The soft tummy he's formed as a result of the divorce acting like a cushion against his relentless thrusts whilst he calls you "the pretty little receptionist that makes a good fuck".

Divorced Mechanic!Danny that notices that you're significantly on edge one day. He offers if you want to share a smoke with him. You reluctantly accept, knowing you'd never smoked before. He lights up the cigarette, passing it over to you with a smirk. You take a puff, choking on the burning sensation of the strong tobacco, as you quickly give it back to him with a disgusted wrinkle of your nose. He chuckles, before taking another drag, pressing a hot kiss onto your lips as he passes the smoke into your mouth, with a soft groan. He then promises you he'll teach you how to take your cigarettes better in the future before patting your shoulder and walking off leaving you shunned and breathless, before stubbing out the nub with his boot.

Divorced Mechanic!Danny with a spit kink. He forcefully grabs your jaw with his large hand, forcing you to open your mouth, followed by his lips harshly kissing your's. He spits into your mouth before abruptly pulling away, your cheeks a burning crimson from the abruptness of the assault on your mouth, before he mutters into your ear that "that's all you were good for" to him.

Divorced Mechanic!Danny that has no control over himself around you. On one certain occasion he's more of a brute than usual, his anger overflowing as he assaulted you with might, leaving you bruised and swollen. After that, he doesn't hear a peep out of you all day. Feeling concerned, his angry exterior crumbles, his tone gentler as his soft tummy presses against your front, asking if he'd done something wrong, trying to coax the truth out of you. Little does he know the distance between your bodies is driving you insane, unable to make eye contact with him as you grow increasingly horny.

Divorced Mechanic!Danny who lets you feed him cake on his birthday. Straddling his lap, his oil stained white vest rides up his chest slightly, revealing his happy trail and softer tummy. You spoon feed him some cake, allowing the crumbs to collect around his mouth before licking them off the corners of his mouth with a smirk, before pressing a soft kiss on his lips, whispering in his ear "happy birthday" in that sweet, sultry voice you know makes him go crazy. This has the right effect on him, as he's ready to cum right there in his boxers like a teen again.

Divorced Mechanic!Danny who teases your cunt with a wrench as he has you bent over a client's car, calling you all sorts of degrading names, making sure you know your place after making him horny all day because you wore something revealing innocently because the AC wasn't working in the reception area.

Soft sex with Divorced Mechanic!Danny which is beautifully different to your typical type of sex with him. Soft praises mumbled through breathy pants as you both appreciate each other's bodies, hands trailing ever so softly over each other's flesh. In that moment, Danny realises that he can appreciate the soft, intimate parts to sex again, his cracks becoming more clearer. Your hands gliding into his unkempt mullet, appreciating the soft curls as he thrusts his hips up gently, enjoying the slowness of your love making for once.

i feel like i might've forgotten a few things but i'm honestly so overwhelmed with ideas for this AU that i could write for years...

[nichmeddar]

daniel ricciardo

onlyangel4 1k event - P7. DR3. SMAU.

trope: fluff comfort

pairing: daniel ricciardo x long term girlfriend

faceclaim: josephine skriver

1k event

y/ninsta posted a story

written: how is this an airport?

danielricciardo posted a story tagging y/ninsta

written: back with my girl

y/ninsta posted a story tagging danielricciardo

y/ninsta posted a story

written: ready for you singapore (even if night races are way past my bedtime)

danielricciardofan

liked by user1, user2, user3 and 21,102 others

danielricciardofan: all the content from this weekend makes me think that all the rumours about daniel leaving f1 are true

y/n ran into his arms sobbing post race, if this is true i am genuinely heartbroken but i know our daniel will be onto bigger and better things

view all 1,292 comments

user1: the video of y/n crying in the garage is going to be ingrained into my memory forever

user2: i am truly devastated if this is the truth

user3: this is so heartbreaking

y/ninsta posted a story

written: so so proud

f1

liked by user4, user5, user6 and 2,001,102 others

f1: BREAKING: daniel ricciardo to leave RB

view all 82,231 comments

user4: he deserved a better goodbye

user5: danny ric leaving f1 by getting the fastest lap point from lando just sums up the kind of guy he is

user6: i'm going to miss him so much

y/ninsta

liked by alexandrasaintmleus, kellypiquet, danielricciardo and 1,202,283 others

tagged: danielricciardo

y/ninsta: my future

view all 108,284 comments

alexandrasaintmleux: so so happy for you my love

y/ninsta: miss you al

kellypiquet: already picking my outfit for the wedding of the century

danielricciardo: can't wait to force you to be in my life forever

y/ninsta: i was going to be in your life forever ring or no ring

maxverstappen: i still remember convincing daniel to grow balls and ask you out, my my does time fly

y/ninsta: still convinced we would still be pining after each other if you didn't give him a pep talk

user7: mum and dad go offline for months and then come back with this news, that is nuts

user8: this is my royal wedding

user9: i'm actually crying, finally some good dr3 news

danielricciardo posted a story tagging y/ninsta

written: this is what y/n was wearing the night i proposed, can you blame me for dropping to my knees

alexandrasaintmleux posted a story tagging y/ninsta

written: of course y/n had to have the most aesthetic hen do ever

kellypiquet posted a story tagging y/ninsta

written: girls night to celebrate my girl

y/ninsta posted a story tagging kellypiquet, alexandrasaintmleux, flavybarla and francisca.gomes

written: ofc i had a pj party hen do, wouldn't have it any other way

y/ninsta

liked by danielricciardo, landonorris, alexandrasaintmleux and 3,872,485 others

tagged: danielricciardo. vogue.

y/ninsta: two months ago i got to marry the love of my life at my dream wedding ceremony, a massive thank you to vogue for capturing my perfect day

view all 543,294 comments

danielricciardo: how dare you not include the picture of me doing a shoey

y/ninsta: i'm afraid that didn't fit the aesthetic my love

landonorris: the best night ever

y/ninsta: i'm surprised you can remember it you were singing taylor swift karaoke with my husband at 4am

alexandrasaintmleux: the prettiest bride

y/ninsta: only because you did my make up pretty girl

kellypiquet: crying looking at these photos

y/ninsta: stop kel you'll make me cry

user10: i'm so happy they found joy in such a difficult time after he got dropped

user11: the royal wedding happened and we had no idea

user12: i'm so so happy for you both

user13: your dress is stunning oh my god

danielricciardo posted a story tagging y/ninsta

written: wifey

∘•···············•∘ʚ ♡ ɞ∘•················•∘

@bibissparkles

@milkysoop

@hadids-world

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@nichmeddar

[5sospenguinqueen]

Baby Fever Angst

F1 Masterlist

Charles Leclerc Play Pretend - He's Lightning McQueen. You're Elle Woods. But, when Charles misses you, he makes it known that perhaps your career isn't as important as his wishes to start a family Part Two - Lightning McQueen realises he misses Elle Woods. Or, when Charles finds out your goals always had him in mind, he realises he should've done the same

Daniel Ricciardo Bedtime Stories - For the past six years, you've been dreaming of a future with Daniel. Until one silly little interview shatters every illusion Part Two - Daniel made a silly little comment that lost him everything. Over a year later, he tries his hardest to fix his mistakes

Fernando Alonso ~ COMING SOON Toy Cars - Step dad Fernando Part Two

Lewis Hamilton Tantrums - After 10 years together, Lewis keeps pushing back the date on when “forever” can start. Realising that forever applies to her job and not their relationship, she makes it clear that she’s had enough Part Two - Having flushed a 10 year relationship down the drain, Lewis realises he wants nothing more than to win you back

Lance Stroll Pocket Money - Since the start of the relationship, fans have been convinced you're only with Lance for his money. When he mentions your future in an interview, they accuse you of trying to baby trap him Part Two - After some time apart, you and Lance realise your love and future mean more than fans' hateful comments

Lando Norris Princess Party - Lando enjoys participating in all night life has to offer, particularly with his best friend. When Y/N falls pregnant after one drunken night, he panics. After all, why should he trade a club party for a princess party? Part Two - After a drunken night with his best friend, Lando ran away from the consequences. Over the next eight months, he's reminded that he made a huge mistakes

Max Verstappen Lullabies - Six months ago, Max walked out of your life after a conversation about your future. When you find out he' ended up in a's dating Kelly - who has a child - you work through your emotions in the best way you know how; revenge music Part Two - Max left without letting you fully explain. Nearly a year later, he realises he made a mistake when he thinks you're moving on

Oscar Piastri Growing Pains - When fans begin commenting about your future plans, Oscar begins to worry that your long-term relationship is preventing you from truly experiencing life Part Two - Oscar thought leaving was the best thing for you, but quickly realised he cannot function without you

[fastandcarlos]

How Everyone In The Paddock Knows You're Dating : ̗̀➛ F1 Reaction

» Max Verstappen 

He’s naturally paying attention to you, without even realising that he’s doing it until one of the team nudges his side. The team are well aware of Max’s eyes trailing across to look at you, or switching off to the conversation as soon as you start talking. He doesn’t know he’s doing it, but the team are well trained and constantly have to remind Max to pay attention again. He can’t help but smile whenever he’s looking at you, especially when he watches you walk around the garage with such an interest, showing a genuine enthusiasm for learning as much as you can about where Max works and what he does, 

» Lando Norris 

He’s like a big kid most of the time, but Lando becomes a lot softer whenever he’s around you, like you make him weak at the knees just from being by his side. The team notice how needy he becomes as soon as he’s in your presence, searching for affection as often as possible. Lando stops focusing on anyone else, the only person that he wants to be around is you. No one in the garage can believe how different Lando is when he’s around you, how he stumbles around, how he giggles uncontrollably, how he can’t bear to be in the same room as you without some sort of physical contact.  

» Charles LeClerc 

Everyone knows that your Charles because his eyes are always watching you. He loves knowing exactly where you are, forever checking that you’re alright and that you’re safe. When he loses sight of you, Charles can’t help but panic, eyes darting around until he spots you again. There’s a fondness in his eyes whenever he’s watching you, if you’re smiling, he’s smiling, if you’re laughing, he laughs with you, and if you seem upset, Charles gets upset too, heading over to you to see if you’re alright. It doesn’t matter what’s happening at the paddock, Charles loves the feeling of knowing that you’re right there with him, like a comfort right by his side. 

» George Russell 

No one in the paddock can fault how much of a gentleman George is for you, despite how busy he is, he always manages to make time to do all the little things for you. He holds the door open for you at every opportunity, keeps his arm around you to protect you from the crowd, offers you his jacket whenever he notices that you’re getting cold, anything that he can in order to keep you safe. Before a race George checks up on you, makes sure that you’re warm enough, had plenty of food, and ensures you’re sat where you can see the race in a spot that’s nice and quiet.  

» Carlos Sainz 

His smile always gets bigger the second he notices you’re around, usually spotting you out of the corner of his eye whilst half listening to what’s being said by the team. When he knows you’re nearby, Carlos is eager for things to be wrapped up as soon as possible so he can go over and see you. As soon as you’re within touching distance, Carlos’ arm wraps around you, with a kiss pressed to the top of your head to greet you, wondering what you’ve been up to whilst he’s been busy. Nobody else needs to look to see if you’re there, they can tell by the excitement in Carlos’ expression that you’re around. 

» Oscar Piastri 

Every single person in the paddock has listened to Oscar tell some sort of story about you, he loves telling them about you. He talks about you with so much excitement that every single one of them knows just how in love Oscar is with you too, sounding much happier than he ever does when he’s talking about his car. He remembers every last detail about the things that he does with you, and has the world’s biggest smile on his face whenever he shares them with anyone. It’s one thing that he’ll never tire of, forever gushing about you around his team. 

» Daniel Ricciardo 

It’s the little things that everyone in the paddock notices that Daniel always does for you. It’s the way he passes you one of his caps if it’s particularly sunny or passes you his water bottle to drink out of when you tell him that you’re getting thirsty and can’t get through to get a drink. He’s constantly attentive, despite how busy he’s supposed to be, he can’t help but still pay attention and make sure that he’s protecting you. The whole team knows just how in love Daniel is with you, after all, he doesn’t take care of any of them anywhere near as well as he takes care of you. 

» Lewis Hamilton 

The team can’t help but admire the way that Lewis looks at you, like you’re the most fragile person in the world that he has to protect. He loves to have you glued to his side when he’s at the paddock, no matter who he’s talking to. Whether it be a team meeting, a chat with a sponsor, or providing some feedback to Toto and Bono, Lewis still has his eyes on you. You don’t say much, not that you can, but when you do speak, Lewis looks at you with such an adoring look that the rest of the team can’t help but admire how fond Lewis is of you. 

˗ˏˋ 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ! ´ˎ˗

[pucksandpower]

Enjoy the Butterflies

Daniel Ricciardo x crazy rich!Reader

Summary: in which Daniel gets dropped by his team and picked up by an heiress with a penchant for taking in strays

The heavy bass of the club still hums in your bones as you step out onto the pavement, the humid Singapore night wrapping around you like a second skin. The neon lights from Zouk, one of the city’s most exclusive nightclubs, pulse in rhythm with your heartbeat, and for a second, you stand still, relishing the quiet that follows hours of dancing, laughter, and too many cocktails.

The sounds of the party still echo behind you, a muffled roar of privilege and extravagance, but out here, it’s just you and the night.

Or so you think.

Your attention is pulled toward a commotion just a few meters away. You blink, trying to make sense of the scene. There’s a man — definitely not local, tall, and a little scruffy compared to the sharp-dressed crowd you’re used to — being unceremoniously escorted out by one of the bouncers. His head hangs low, and his shoulders are slumped in a way that screams defeat.

It’s not the dramatic, messy kind of exit where someone’s too drunk to stand, or too proud to admit they’ve done something wrong. No, this is different. This guy isn’t even trying to fight back.

“Get lost,” the bouncer grunts, shoving the man one last time before turning to head back inside.

You can’t help it — you freeze, your gaze lingering on him. He doesn’t move, just leans against the wall like he’s considering sinking to the ground. His posture is pitiful in a way that tugs at something inside you, that soft part of you that your family says is too soft. The part that’s always drawn to the broken, the hopeless, the ones who don’t quite fit.

He lets out a long, dramatic sigh, his eyes flicking up to the club entrance, like maybe if he stares long enough, he’ll magically be allowed back in. He’s pathetic. There’s no other word for it. But he’s also kind of endearing, in a weird way.

“Pathetic,” you mutter under your breath, half-amused.

You could leave him there, you know that. This isn’t your problem. He’ll figure something out. Or not. It’s not like you owe him anything, but …

"Are you just going to stand there?” You hear yourself saying, your feet already moving toward him before you can stop them.

His head snaps up, clearly not expecting anyone to address him. His eyes — big, brown, and confused — lock onto yours. He’s a little scruffy, but there’s something boyishly charming about him.

“I — uh,” he stammers, straightening up slightly but still looking like he’d rather be anywhere else. “No. I mean, yeah, I guess?”

You roll your eyes. “That’s not an answer.”

He shrugs helplessly. “Well, I don’t really have one. Kinda got kicked out of the only place I planned on being tonight.”

You narrow your eyes. “What did you do?”

“I, uh …” He scratches the back of his neck, clearly uncomfortable. “I don’t know, honestly. Might’ve been a little too loud, or maybe I was blocking someone important from getting their drinks. These places, man, they don’t like it when you’re … disruptive.”

You cross your arms, glancing at him up and down. He doesn’t look dangerous, just out of place. “You sound like you deserved it.”

He winces. “Probably did.”

There’s a beat of silence, and you’re still standing there, wondering why you’re wasting your time. Then, before you know it, you’re sighing. Your family would shake their heads at you, calling you too kind for your own good.

“Come on,” you say, jerking your head toward the curb. “Let’s go.”

He blinks. “What?”

You nod toward the curb, where your Rolls Royce waits, engine quietly idling. The chauffeur stands by, staring straight ahead like this is the most normal thing in the world, like this isn’t some insane act of kindness you’re pulling out of nowhere.

“I’m not leaving you out here,” you say, already heading toward the car. “Get in.”

“Uh — wait, seriously?” He hurries to catch up, still clearly not processing what’s happening. “You don’t even know me.”

You shrug, throwing a look over your shoulder. “Do I need to?”

“Usually, yeah,” he says, jogging slightly to keep pace with you. “I mean, what if I’m like, a complete psycho or something?”

“If you were, I doubt you’d be sitting against a wall feeling sorry for yourself,” you shoot back, opening the car door. “Now get in before I change my mind.”

There’s a brief moment of hesitation, like he’s weighing his options, but then he shakes his head, muttering something under his breath, and slides into the backseat beside you. The leather is cool against your skin, the scent of luxury and privilege permeating the air, and for a second, it’s quiet as the door closes behind you both.

The driver pulls away from the curb smoothly, not asking questions.

“So … you do this often?” The man asks, still clearly bewildered. “Pick up random guys outside clubs?”

You snort, turning to face him. “Definitely not.”

“Then why me?”

You shrug. “You looked pathetic.”

His eyebrows shoot up, and for a second, you think you’ve offended him, but then he laughs — loud, unabashed, and surprising. “Wow. Okay. Well, thanks, I guess?”

You smile despite yourself. “Don’t mention it.”

He leans back in the seat, still grinning. “I’m Daniel, by the way. Ricciardo. Not sure if that means anything to you.”

You narrow your eyes, the name clicking into place. “The F1 driver?”

He looks a little sheepish but nods. “Yeah, that’s me.”

You stare at him for a moment, processing that. It’s not like you keep up with racing, but you’ve definitely heard of him. Seen him in ads, maybe, or on TV. It’s a little weird, thinking about it now. The same guy who’s smiling at you, a little bashfully, is famous in his own right.

“I didn’t recognize you,” you say, somewhat apologetic.

He shrugs again, more relaxed now. “Don’t worry about it. Happens more often than you think. Usually, I’m not getting kicked out of places, though.”

You smirk. “Good to know.”

There’s a comfortable silence after that, the two of you settling into the soft hum of the car as it glides through the streets. You steal a glance at him, watching as he stares out the window, looking slightly more at peace now that he’s not sitting on the pavement outside of a nightclub. He catches you looking, raising an eyebrow.

“So, you’re just gonna take me home, drop me off like a stray cat?” He teases, flashing you that boyish grin again.

You tilt your head, pretending to think about it. “Depends. Do stray cats usually get rides in Rolls Royces?”

“Only the ones that get kicked out of clubs,” he fires back, and you can’t help but laugh.

This was definitely not how you expected your night to go.

***

You lean back in your seat, letting the smooth hum of the Rolls Royce fill the silence for a moment. Daniel seems more relaxed now, but there’s still something hanging in the air, something that makes you look at him again, curiosity getting the better of you.

"So," you say, turning your head slightly to study him, "where am I dropping you off? What hotel are you staying at?"

Daniel blinks, the question catching him off guard. He looks at you, then at the ceiling of the car like the answer might be written somewhere above his head. “Uh … yeah, about that …”

You narrow your eyes. “You don’t know, do you?”

He winces, running a hand through his tousled hair. “Not exactly. I mean, I know I checked into a place, obviously, but I can’t remember the name right now.”

“You can’t remember what hotel you’re staying at?” Your tone is somewhere between disbelief and amusement.

Daniel shrugs, unbothered. “It’s been a long day. Plus, there’s like, a million hotels in Singapore. They all start to blur together.”

You can’t help the small laugh that escapes you. “Okay, genius. So how were you planning on getting back?”

“Hadn’t thought that far ahead,” he admits, grinning lazily. Then, the grin fades, and something shifts in his expression — something a little sadder, more raw. “Honestly, even if I did know, I don’t really want to go back there.”

You frown. “Why not?”

He hesitates, eyes flicking to the window as if he can avoid answering by watching the city lights whiz by. After a long pause, he sighs and leans back against the seat, rubbing a hand over his face.

“I got dropped,” he mutters, almost too quietly for you to hear.

“Dropped?” You repeat, confused. “From what?”

“From my team,” he clarifies, his voice a little hoarse. “VCARB. They, uh, decided they didn’t want me around anymore.”

You blink, the realization hitting you like a sudden cold wave. “Oh.”

Daniel doesn’t say anything for a moment, the silence growing heavy. You can see the tension in his shoulders, the way his fingers twitch slightly as he picks at an invisible thread on his jeans.

“I mean,” he finally continues, forcing a smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes, “I kinda saw it coming. Just didn’t think it’d happen this fast, y’know?”

The lightheartedness from earlier is completely gone now, replaced by something darker, something heavier. You can feel the weight of it pressing down on him, the frustration and sadness barely concealed behind his crooked grin.

“I thought I had more time,” he says softly, his voice raw with vulnerability. “But I guess that’s how it goes. One day you’re on top of the world, and the next … well, you’re getting kicked out of nightclubs.”

You stay quiet, unsure of what to say. You weren’t expecting to find yourself in this situation tonight — sitting in the back of a Rolls Royce with a famous F1 driver who just lost his job. And yet, here you are, listening to him spill his heart out in the middle of the night, somewhere between Zouk and wherever he was supposed to go next.

“I just don’t want to be around them right now,” he continues, voice thick. “The team, the people … they’re all pretending to be nice, like it’s just business, but it’s not. It’s my life. My career.”

He shakes his head, letting out a soft, bitter laugh. “And now it’s over. Just like that.”

You let out a sigh, long and heavy. “So, you don’t want to go back to your hotel?”

“Not really,” Daniel mutters, slumping back in his seat.

You stare at him for a second, weighing your options. Your chauffeur is driving aimlessly through the city, waiting for your instructions, and Daniel is sitting here, lost in his own world of disappointment. He looks tired, drained, and you’re not cruel enough to leave him like this.

“Well,” you say, after a beat of silence, “I guess you’re coming with me then.”

Daniel’s head snaps up, his brows furrowing. “Wait, what?”

You glance at him, your voice firm. “You heard me. You can’t remember your hotel, you don’t want to go back even if you could, and I’m not about to leave you wandering around Singapore. So, you’re coming to my place.”

He stares at you, eyes wide with a mixture of surprise and disbelief. “Are you serious?”

You roll your eyes. “Would I say it if I wasn’t?”

For a moment, he looks like he’s about to argue, but then he slumps back in his seat again, exhaling a long, tired breath. “Alright. If you’re sure.”

You nod, already turning to the front of the car. “Take us home,” you tell your chauffeur, who acknowledges the instruction with a curt nod before the car smoothly shifts direction.

Daniel leans his head against the window, eyes heavy. “Thanks,” he mumbles, his voice barely audible. “You really didn’t have to do this.”

You wave it off. “I know.”

A few minutes pass in silence, the soft sound of the tires against the road lulling both of you into a calm quiet. You glance over at Daniel again, noticing how his eyelids are drooping more and more, his head bobbing slightly as he fights to stay awake.

“You look like you’re about to pass out,” you comment, amused.

“M’not,” he protests, but his words are already slurred. “Just … resting my eyes.”

You raise an eyebrow. “Sure.”

It doesn’t take long before his breathing evens out, and his head tips to the side, fully succumbing to sleep. You shake your head, watching him for a moment. He looks peaceful like this, the weight of whatever he’s been carrying lifted, if only temporarily.

“Of course,” you mutter to yourself, leaning back in your seat, “this is how my night ends.”

The car pulls up in front of your building — a sleek, modern tower in one of the city’s most exclusive neighborhoods. Your chauffeur steps out first, coming around to open the door for you. You step out gracefully, smoothing your dress, but when you look back into the car, Daniel is still out cold, slumped awkwardly in the seat.

You sigh. “This is not happening.”

Your chauffeur, ever professional, stands at attention, waiting for your next move. You consider your options for a second before glancing at him. “Help me get him inside, will you?”

The chauffeur doesn’t hesitate, nodding curtly. He moves to the other side of the car and carefully opens the door. Together, you manage to maneuver Daniel out of the backseat, his arm draped over the chauffeur’s shoulder as he leans heavily against him. Daniel stirs slightly but doesn’t wake, too deep in sleep to even register what’s happening.

The doorman, recognizing you immediately, rushes over to assist. “Miss Y/L/N,” he says, eyes flicking from you to the unconscious Daniel, a flicker of confusion crossing his face. “Is everything alright?”

“It’s fine,” you say quickly, giving him a tight smile. “Just … had a long night.”

The doorman nods, not pressing further, and helps the chauffeur guide Daniel through the lobby and into the elevator. You follow behind, feeling a little ridiculous but knowing there’s no turning back now.

The elevator ride is quiet, save for Daniel’s soft breathing as he leans against the wall, still fast asleep. You glance at him, half-amused, half-exasperated. What a night.

When you finally reach your penthouse, the door slides open smoothly, and the chauffeur and doorman gently ease Daniel onto your plush couch. He sprawls out, looking even more out of place among the sleek, expensive furniture, but you can’t help but chuckle at the sight.

“Thanks,” you tell the men, who nod before excusing themselves quietly, leaving you alone with your unexpected guest.

You stand there for a moment, looking at Daniel as he sleeps soundly on your couch. His shoes are still on, one arm hanging off the side, and his mouth slightly open in a way that’s almost comical. Shaking your head, you grab a blanket from a nearby chair and drape it over him.

“Well, this is definitely not how I thought my night would go,” you mutter to yourself, standing back and crossing your arms as you look at him one last time.

With a sigh, you turn and head toward your bedroom, already mentally preparing for the chaos tomorrow is likely to bring.

***

You’re in the middle of a dream when you hear it — the unmistakable sound of your mother’s voice. Loud, sharp, and utterly out of place in the peaceful silence of your penthouse. Your eyes snap open, heart pounding in your chest as you try to piece together why in the world she would be here, at this ungodly hour.

And then you hear it. A scream.

“Who is this man?”

Your stomach drops, the reality of last night hitting you like a freight train. Daniel. He’s still here. Passed out on your couch. And now, your very traditional mother is standing in your living room, probably about to have a heart attack.

You scramble out of bed, nearly tripping over yourself as you rush toward the living room. You can already hear her ranting, a mix of shock and outrage in her voice, and you don’t even have time to think before you’re standing in front of her, trying to calm the situation down.

“Mum!” You blurt out, trying to sound casual, like this isn’t the absolute disaster it clearly is. “What are you doing here?”

Your mother’s eyes are wide, her perfectly manicured hand pressed dramatically against her chest as she stares down at Daniel, who’s still blissfully unconscious, mouth slightly open, one arm dangling off the edge of the couch.

“I could ask you the same thing!” She snaps, her voice rising with every word. “Why is there a man sleeping in your living room? And why-” she leans in, eyes narrowing, “does he look like he’s been out drinking all night?”

Your mind races, panic bubbling up as you try to figure out what to say, what kind of excuse would possibly explain this. And then, without even thinking, the words tumble out of your mouth.

“He’s … he’s my boyfriend.”

The second the lie leaves your lips, you know it’s a terrible idea. But it’s too late now. Your mother freezes, her eyes narrowing suspiciously as she looks between you and Daniel. “Your … boyfriend?” She repeats, her tone incredulous.

You nod, forcing a tight smile, praying that Daniel stays asleep long enough for you to get through this. “Yes. My boyfriend.”

Your mother looks like she’s about to faint. “And you didn’t tell me? You-”

“I was going to!” you interrupt quickly. “But it’s … it’s new. Very new. I didn’t want to say anything until I was sure.”

She crosses her arms, still clearly not buying it. “And this is how you introduce him to your mother? Drunk and passed out in your living room?”

“He’s not drunk,” you say quickly, even though that’s obviously a lie. “He’s … uh, just really tired. He’s been going through a lot lately.”

At that moment, you hear a groan from the couch. You glance over, heart sinking as Daniel stirs, slowly blinking awake. His face is pale, and the second he opens his eyes, you can see the hangover written all over him.

“Wh-” Daniel starts, voice groggy as he sits up, rubbing a hand over his face. “Where …”

Your mother’s eyes widen, and she turns to you, her expression one of absolute horror. “This is him?” She whispers, like you’ve just committed some kind of unspeakable crime.

You give her a weak smile. “Yes. Mum, this is Daniel.”

Daniel’s head snaps up at the sound of his name, his bleary eyes trying to make sense of the situation. He looks at you, confused, and you give him a pointed look, willing him to just go along with it.

"Daniel," you say through gritted teeth, “this is my mother. Remember? I told you she might stop by.”

Daniel blinks at you, his brow furrowed in confusion. It takes a second, but you can practically see the gears turning in his brain as he tries to process what’s happening. Finally, he nods slowly, trying to catch up. “Right. Your mum. Uh, hi.”

Your mother stares at him, unimpressed. “Are you alright?” She asks, her voice cold and judgmental.

Daniel, still clearly half-asleep and in the throes of a wicked hangover, gives her a shaky smile. “Yeah, just … didn’t sleep great,” he mumbles, leaning back into the couch.

You wince internally, but keep up the act. “He’s been working so hard lately,” you say quickly, hoping to smooth things over. “With his job and everything.”

Your mother’s eyes narrow further. “And what does he do, exactly?”

Daniel glances at you, panic flickering in his eyes, clearly not prepared for this interrogation. You jump in before he can make things worse.

“He’s … in sports,” you say vaguely. “He’s an athlete.”

Your mother’s gaze doesn’t soften in the slightest. “What kind of athlete?”

You feel Daniel’s eyes on you, pleading silently for help. “Formula 1,” you say quickly. “He’s a Formula 1 driver.”

Your mother blinks, taken aback by this revelation. “A race car driver?” She repeats, like it’s the most absurd thing she’s ever heard. “That’s … interesting.”

You can tell she’s not impressed, but at least it’s bought you a little time. You just need to get through this without her prying too much further.

“I promise, Mum, Daniel’s a good guy,” you say, trying to sound convincing. “He just … had a rough night. That’s all.”

Your mother’s gaze flicks between you and Daniel, suspicion still heavy in her eyes. “And where did he sleep?”

You freeze. “Uh …”

Daniel, finally catching on to what’s happening, sits up a little straighter. “I slept here,” he says quickly, gesturing to the couch. “On the couch. I didn’t … you know …”

He trails off, looking at your mother awkwardly, but the message is clear.

Your mother’s eyebrows shoot up, surprised by his admission. “You didn’t share a bed?”

You shake your head vigorously. “No, Mum. We didn’t share a bed. We’re not married, remember?”

For the first time since she walked in, your mother seems to relax a little, her rigid posture softening just a bit. “Well,” she says, sounding somewhat mollified, “at least he has some morals.”

You breathe a silent sigh of relief, nodding along. “Exactly. Daniel’s … very respectful.”

Daniel gives a small, awkward smile, clearly still trying to wrap his head around the situation. “Uh, yeah. Very … respectful.”

Your mother studies him for a moment longer, then nods, satisfied. “Well, I suppose it could be worse.”

You almost laugh at that but manage to keep a straight face. “Right.”

There’s a brief pause as your mother smooths down her dress, glancing around the penthouse like she’s looking for something to criticize. Then, her eyes land back on you, and she smiles — one of those deceptively sweet smiles that always makes you nervous.

“Well,” she says brightly, “since I’m here, I’d love to get to know Daniel a bit better. Why don’t you two join me for dinner tonight?”

You blink, caught off guard. “Dinner? Tonight?”

Your mother nods, clearly not taking no for an answer. “Yes. I think it’s high time I meet this boyfriend of yours properly.”

You glance at Daniel, who’s looking at you with wide, slightly panicked eyes. You can tell he’s regretting every decision that led him to this moment, but there’s no way out now. You’re both trapped.

“Uh, sure,” you say weakly. “We’d love to.”

Your mother beams, clearly pleased with herself. “Wonderful! I’ll have my assistant call to make the reservation. Seven o’clock sharp. You know where. Don’t be late.”

Before you can respond, she’s already turning on her heel, heading toward the door with a satisfied smile on her face. “I’ll see you both tonight,” she calls over her shoulder as she exits, leaving you standing there in stunned silence.

The door clicks shut, and the room is suddenly, blissfully quiet.

You turn to Daniel, who’s staring at you, still half-dazed from sleep and now fully confused about what just happened.

“Boyfriend?” He croaks, his voice rough from the hangover.

You let out a long, exasperated sigh, rubbing your temples. “I panicked.”

He groans, flopping back onto the couch. “Dinner with your mum? Really?”

“Yes. And if you don’t play along, I’m pretty sure she’ll disown me.”

Daniel chuckles weakly, rubbing his temples. “Great. Just great.”

You stare at him for a moment, then flop down next to him on the couch, letting your head fall back against the cushions. “This is a disaster.”

“Eh,” Daniel mutters, eyes closed. “Could be worse.”

You shoot him a look. “How?”

He cracks one eye open, grinning. “At least I didn’t throw up on her.”

You groan, burying your face in your hands. “That’s not funny.”

But when you look up, you can’t help but laugh, because as ridiculous as this entire situation is, somehow, in the madness of it all, you know tonight is going to be even worse.

***

Dinner is already awkward. You can feel the tension every time your mother glances at Daniel, her polite smile not quite reaching her eyes. It’s a small, exclusive restaurant, the kind of place where the waiters wear gloves, and the courses are tiny but outrageously expensive. The chef is renowned for his traditional yet experimental take on Singaporean cuisine, which is perfect because your mother insists on a display of sophistication when it comes to hosting. Unfortunately, that also means the pressure on Daniel is palpable.

Daniel sits across from you, trying to look comfortable, though his hand is constantly fiddling with his napkin under the table. Your mother, seated beside him, is maintaining her usual air of grace, but you can see she’s sizing him up, scrutinizing every bite, every word. And you … you’re just trying to survive.

“So, Daniel,” your mother begins, swirling her wine like a seasoned critic, “what are your long-term plans? With your career, I mean.”

Daniel freezes with his fork halfway to his mouth, the question clearly catching him off guard. He clears his throat, scrambling to find an answer that sounds impressive. “Well, uh, things are a bit … in flux right now,” he says, offering a weak smile. “But I’m working on it.”

Your mother arches an eyebrow. “In flux? That doesn’t sound very … stable.”

You kick Daniel lightly under the table, silently willing him to come up with something better than “in flux.” He glances at you for help, but you just widen your eyes, urging him to recover.

“Yeah, well,” Daniel says, trying to salvage the conversation, “I’ve been racing for a while, you know? Formula 1. It’s a pretty high-pressure job, so … I’m considering my next move carefully.”

Your mother makes a noncommittal hum, clearly unimpressed. “I see.”

You want to sink into the floor.

“I’m going to excuse myself for a moment,” you say quickly, standing from the table. “I’ll be right back.”

Daniel gives you a look that screams *don’t leave me alone with her*, but there’s no way around it. You shoot him an apologetic smile before making your way toward the restroom, leaving him to fend for himself.

As soon as you’re gone, the silence at the table becomes almost deafening. Daniel shifts uncomfortably in his seat, glancing around the room as if he’s suddenly forgotten how to act normal. He’s about to reach for his water glass when he notices your mother watching him closely.

“So,” she says, her tone unnervingly calm, “Daniel.”

He straightens up, unsure if he should be relieved or terrified that she’s addressing him directly. “Yes, ma’am?”

“I think we should speak candidly, don’t you?” She says, her voice as smooth as silk but with an edge that makes Daniel’s skin crawl. She reaches into her handbag, and Daniel feels his stomach lurch with nerves. What’s she going to pull out? A contract? Some kind of questionnaire?

What she pulls out, however, is much worse.

It’s a small, velvet box. A ring box.

Daniel’s heart stops. His eyes widen as he stares at the box, his mind spinning, trying to make sense of what’s happening.

Your mother places the box delicately in front of him, her expression serene, like she’s offering him a cup of tea rather than a proposal-sized bombshell. “I’ve been waiting for Y/N to bring home a boy for quite some time,” she says, her voice soft but pointed. “And now that she has … well, I can’t let this moment pass.”

Daniel opens and closes his mouth, but no words come out. He’s too stunned to respond, completely blindsided by this sudden turn of events.

Your mother’s eyes gleam, and she leans in slightly, lowering her voice as if she’s sharing a secret. “Of course, I would have preferred if you were Singaporean,” she continues, her tone just a touch sharper, “but I’m not getting any younger, and I want grandchildren. So, we can’t be picky, can we?”

Daniel’s mind goes blank. He tries to form a coherent thought, a response, anything, but all that comes out is a strangled, “I … uh …”

Your mother regards him with the same calm, calculating gaze she’s had since the start of dinner, as though this entire interaction is completely normal. “You’ll do,” she says simply, and there’s a finality in her tone that makes it clear this isn’t up for debate.

Daniel stares at the ring box, his brain short-circuiting. Is this really happening? He glances around the restaurant, half-expecting someone to jump out and tell him it’s all some elaborate prank. But no one does. It’s just him, your mother, and the heavy weight of that velvet box sitting between them.

He’s completely out of his depth. He can’t even think of how to respond to your mother’s words, let alone the fact that she’s just essentially handed him an engagement ring.

“I-” he starts again, but his throat is dry, and nothing coherent follows.

“Daniel,” she interrupts smoothly, her gaze sharpening. “You’re a good man, I can tell. And you’re very … respectful.” The word drips with meaning, making Daniel shift in his seat.

Before he can stammer out anything in return, the restroom door swings open, and you reappear, walking back toward the table, blissfully unaware of the bomb that’s just been dropped.

Daniel panics. His mind races as you approach, and without thinking, he snatches the ring box off the table, slipping it into his jacket pocket in one swift movement. His heart is racing, his palms suddenly sweaty, but he tries to keep his expression neutral.

“Everything alright?” You ask, sliding back into your seat, oblivious to the tension radiating from both Daniel and your mother.

Daniel clears his throat, forcing a tight smile. “Yep. All good.”

Your mother smiles pleasantly, folding her hands in her lap. “Oh, we were just having a lovely little chat.”

You look between them suspiciously, but there’s no sign of the chaos that just occurred. Daniel’s poker face is impressive, but you can sense something is off. You raise an eyebrow at him, and he just gives you a strained smile in return.

The rest of dinner is a blur. You try to focus on the conversation, but your mother seems to be on her best behavior, keeping things light and superficial. Daniel is unusually quiet, nodding along and making polite comments when necessary, but there’s something distant about him, like he’s somewhere else entirely.

By the time dessert arrives, you can’t shake the feeling that something happened while you were gone. But Daniel isn’t saying a word, and your mother’s serene expression betrays nothing.

As the waiter clears the last of the plates, your mother dabs at her mouth with her napkin, looking between the two of you with an air of satisfaction. “Well,” she says, standing from the table, “this has been lovely. I’m so glad we could all spend this time together.”

You force a smile, standing as well. “Yes, of course. It was … lovely.”

Daniel stands too, his movements a little stiffer than usual, like he’s trying to keep his hands from shaking. “Thank you for dinner, Mrs. Y/L/N,” he says politely, though his voice is a bit strained.

Your mother gives him one last, long look, then smiles warmly. “Oh, Daniel, you’re always welcome. Anytime.”

With that, she gathers her things and heads for the door, leaving you and Daniel standing there in stunned silence. You let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding, turning to Daniel.

“Well, that wasn’t too bad, was it?” You ask, trying to lighten the mood.

Daniel gives a weak chuckle, rubbing the back of his neck. “Yeah … not too bad.”

You narrow your eyes at him, picking up on the odd tone in his voice. “Are you sure? You’ve been acting weird since I got back to the table.”

He blinks, his hand instinctively brushing the pocket where the ring box is hidden. “Uh, yeah. I’m fine. Just … full. Really full.”

You raise an eyebrow, not entirely convinced, but decide to let it slide for now. “Alright. If you say so.”

As you both head for the door, Daniel’s mind is still racing, the weight of the ring box burning a hole in his pocket. He has no idea what to do with it, or what your mother expects from him, but one thing is for sure — he’s in way over his head.

And he’s not sure how much longer he can keep pretending.

***

Back at your penthouse, the atmosphere feels … tense. Not the sort of charged tension from earlier, but something more fragile, awkward. The kind that makes everything feel a bit too quiet, like the air is too thick with things unsaid. You and Daniel are sitting on opposite ends of the plush couch in your living room. It’s not that big of a couch, but the distance feels enormous.

Daniel is fidgeting, running a hand through his hair, tapping his fingers on his knee. You’re sitting with your arms crossed, staring at him, waiting. But waiting for what, exactly? Neither of you knows. The silence stretches between you both, and it’s unbearable. Every breath feels louder than it should.

“Uh …” Daniel finally starts, rubbing the back of his neck, clearly trying to find something — anything — to say. But nothing seems right, so he just ends up staring back at you, eyes darting around like he’s looking for a way out.

You, on the other hand, are unusually still, your eyes narrowed at him. It’s like you’re waiting for him to make the first move, but he’s not catching on. Not yet.

Daniel swallows hard, and after a moment of hesitation, his hand moves toward his jacket pocket. Your eyes flick to the motion, and his fingers tremble slightly as they close around the velvet box, pulling it out with an awkward kind of determination, as if it’s weighing him down more than anything. He holds it for a second, staring at it like it’s a puzzle he can’t solve.

Then, with a breath he didn’t realize he was holding, he opens the box.

The soft click of the hinge seems impossibly loud in the room, and for a moment, all you can do is stare. The ring glimmers under the soft lighting, catching the faintest reflection of the overhead chandelier. It’s not just any ring. You recognize it immediately.

And then, as if someone flipped a switch, you start laughing.

Daniel’s eyes snap to you in confusion, his brows furrowing. “What … what’s so funny?”

You’re still giggling, pressing your hand to your mouth to muffle the sound, but it doesn’t work. The laughter bubbles up uncontrollably, and Daniel looks like he’s caught between being relieved that you’re not mad and completely baffled by your reaction.

“You-” you manage between breaths, “That ring … that’s my grandmother’s. Oh my God, she’s really lost it.”

Daniel blinks, glancing down at the ring again, his confusion only deepening. “Wait, what?”

“My mother,” you say, wiping a tear from your eye, “She must be really desperate to get me married off if she’s giving out my grandmother’s ring to the first guy I bring to dinner. I can’t believe it.”

Daniel stares at you for a second, then back at the ring. “This is your … grandmother’s?” His voice is shaky, like the absurdity of the situation is just now hitting him.

You nod, biting your lip to stifle another laugh. “Yup. She always said it was meant for the man I’d marry one day. Guess she couldn’t wait any longer.”

Daniel’s face goes through a range of emotions — shock, embarrassment, and finally, something like disbelief. “I … I don’t even know what to say.”

You snicker again, leaning back against the couch and crossing your arms. “I think the bigger question here is — why didn’t you say anything to me? Did you just plan on pocketing the ring and hoping I wouldn’t notice?”

Daniel shifts uncomfortably, his cheeks flushing. “I — I didn’t know what to do. Your mom just … handed it to me. I mean, what was I supposed to say? ‘No, thank you, ma’am, I’m not ready for an arranged marriage just yet?’”

You raise an eyebrow, amused. “That might’ve been a good start.”

He opens his mouth to protest, then closes it again, clearly struggling to find a way out of this. Finally, he lets out a defeated sigh and leans back, running both hands through his hair. “This is insane.”

“You think?” You quip, smirking.

Daniel’s gaze drops to the ring again, and there’s a beat of silence before you speak up, this time your tone more playful than mocking. “Well,” you say, drawing out the word, “if you’re gonna propose, you should at least get on one knee. You know, for tradition’s sake.”

Daniel’s head snaps up, eyes wide in disbelief. “What?”

You laugh again, your teasing smile growing. “I mean, come on. If we’re going through with this charade, you might as well go all in. Get down on one knee, Ricciardo.”

He blinks at you, completely at a loss for words. “You’re not serious.”

“Why not?” You shoot back, still grinning. “What’s stopping you? You don’t have a job anymore, so it’s not like you have much else going on. You could always be my trophy husband.”

There’s a flicker of something in Daniel’s eyes — part shock, part amusement, and maybe just a little bit of something else. “Trophy husband?” He echoes, his voice incredulous.

You shrug, leaning forward and resting your chin on your hand, as if the idea were the most obvious thing in the world. “Yeah. I mean, think about it. You wouldn’t have to work, I’d take care of you. You could just … exist. Isn’t that every guy’s dream?”

Daniel laughs — an actual laugh this time, though it’s tinged with disbelief. “You’re crazy, you know that?”

You grin. “Maybe. But I’m also not wrong.”

For a moment, the room is quiet again, but it’s not the awkward silence from before. This is something lighter, filled with the remnants of laughter and the weight of an unspoken understanding. Daniel is still holding the ring box, his thumb absently running over the velvet surface as he processes everything that’s just happened.

And then, because clearly, the universe hasn’t thrown enough chaos at him lately, Daniel does something that surprises both of you.

He nods.

It’s a small, hesitant nod at first, like he’s not even sure he’s agreeing to anything real. But then he meets your gaze, and there’s a flicker of something — maybe exhaustion, maybe delirium, maybe just the sheer absurdity of it all — and he nods again. This time, more certain.

“Alright,” he says quietly, still staring at the ring. “Okay.”

You freeze, blinking at him in surprise. “Wait … what?”

Daniel looks up at you, his expression unreadable but calm. “I said … okay. Let’s do it.”

For the first time tonight, you’re the one who’s caught off guard. “You’re joking.”

He shakes his head slowly, his lips quirking into a half-smile. “Nope.”

You sit up straighter, suddenly unsure whether you’re still in the middle of some elaborate joke or if the reality of the past few days has finally broken Daniel’s sense of logic. “You — wait, seriously? You’d marry me?”

Daniel shrugs, though there’s a glimmer of humor in his eyes now. “I mean, like you said … I don’t have a job anymore. And hey, being a trophy husband doesn’t sound half bad.”

You stare at him, searching his face for any sign of a punchline. But the longer you look, the more you realize he’s not kidding. He’s serious. Or as serious as someone in his situation can be.

A beat passes. Then another.

And suddenly, you burst into laughter again.

“God, you’re insane,” you say, shaking your head in disbelief. “This whole thing is insane.”

Daniel grins, leaning back into the couch with a relieved sigh, as if your laughter has lifted the tension from the room entirely. “Welcome to my life.”

You shake your head again, still chuckling, though there’s something warm and strange growing in your chest. “I can’t believe I’m even considering this.”

Daniel glances at the ring one more time before closing the box with a soft click and slipping it back into his pocket. “Hey,” he says, his voice softer now, “if nothing else, at least we’ll give your mother something to talk about at her next dinner party.”

You snort, rolling your eyes. “Oh, she’ll have a field day.”

For a moment, the two of you just sit there, side by side on the couch, the absurdity of the night finally settling over you both. It’s ridiculous, completely irrational, and yet somehow, in this moment, it feels … right.

Daniel nudges you with his elbow, breaking the silence. “So … when’s the wedding?”

You groan, but you can’t help the smile that tugs at your lips. “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves.”

Daniel chuckles, leaning back into the cushions, finally starting to relax. “Yeah. One step at a time.”

But even as you say it, you can’t shake the feeling that this strange, accidental engagement is just the beginning of something even more complicated.

And maybe you’re okay with that.

***

You come home the next afternoon, practically skipping into the penthouse, your eyes sparkling with excitement. The energy around you is contagious, and even Daniel, who’s lounging on the couch with a glass of water — probably trying to recover from the whirlwind of the past few days — can’t help but smile at your entrance.

“You look … happy,” Daniel says, a slow grin spreading across his face. “What did I miss?”

You clap your hands together like an excited child, barely containing your glee. “I got you something.”

Daniel’s smile falters for a moment, confusion flickering in his eyes. “Wait, what? You got me something?” He straightens up on the couch, his brows furrowing. “You really didn’t have to do that-”

“Shush.” You wave a hand at him, cutting him off before he can protest further. “I wanted to. Trust me, you’re going to love it.”

Daniel chuckles, though there’s a nervous edge to his voice. “Alright, alright. What is it then? A new watch? Shoes?” He pauses, glancing at you skeptically. “Wait, is it another one of your mum’s rings?”

You shake your head, grinning like you’ve just pulled off the best surprise in the world. “Nope. Guess again.”

He raises an eyebrow, leaning forward slightly. “Okay … well, whatever it is, I’m sure it’s great but-”

“I bought Red Bull Racing.”

For a second, it’s like the words don’t register. Daniel blinks at you, his expression blank as his brain tries to process what you just said. There’s a long beat of silence before his mouth finally drops open in disbelief.

“You … you what?”

Your grin widens. “I bought Red Bull Racing. You know, the Formula 1 team? Your old team?” You say it so casually, like you’re talking about picking up a pair of shoes or booking a vacation.

Daniel’s jaw is still hanging open. “You — wait — are you serious?” He’s half laughing now, like he’s trying to figure out if this is some kind of joke. But the look on your face — pure, unfiltered joy — tells him you’re very, very serious.

“Yup!” You say, popping the ‘p’ for emphasis. “Apparently, if you offer double what a team is worth, the owners tend to sell pretty quickly. Who knew?”

Daniel stares at you, completely slack-jawed, like you’ve just told him you bought a small country. “You … bought Red Bull Racing?” His voice cracks a little as he repeats it, as if saying it out loud will make it more real.

You nod, your smile never faltering. “Yup. Just closed the deal this morning.”

“Jesus Christ.” Daniel runs a hand through his hair, looking like he might faint. “Are you insane?”

“Maybe a little,” you admit with a playful shrug. “But it’s an engagement gift, you know? Gotta keep things exciting.”

Daniel lets out a breathless laugh, shaking his head in disbelief. “I … I don’t even know what to say. That’s — this is crazy.”

“I know,” you say, beaming. “But crazy is kind of our thing, isn’t it?”

He laughs again, though it’s still a little shaky. “Yeah, I guess it is.”

There’s a pause as Daniel tries to wrap his head around the fact that you, his new fiancée, just bought one of the most successful teams in Formula 1. He stares at you for a moment longer, then blinks, rubbing his temples like he’s getting a headache. “I … I don’t even know where to start. What does that even mean? You’re gonna be the new team owner?”

“Pretty much,” you say, like it’s no big deal. “And I’m planning to do a bit of restructuring. You know, make some changes, shake things up.”

Daniel gives you a skeptical look. “Restructuring? What kind of changes?”

“Well …” You tap your chin, pretending to think about it. “First of all, I figured I’d ask if there’s anyone you’d like me to keep around. I mean, it’s your engagement gift, after all. I want you to be happy with the team.”

Daniel snorts, shaking his head. “I can’t believe we’re even having this conversation.”

You lean closer, your eyes gleaming mischievously. “And I assume you’ll want me to keep your boyfriend, right?”

Daniel freezes, blinking at you in confusion. “My … boyfriend?”

“Yeah,” you say, deadpan. “Max.”

Daniel nearly chokes. “Wait — what?”

You burst out laughing, unable to keep a straight face any longer. “I’m talking about Max Verstappen! Don’t act so surprised.”

Daniel’s face flushes a deep red, and he shakes his head, exasperated. “We’re not — he’s not my — Jesus, you’re impossible.”

You pat his head, still laughing. “Sure, he’s not. Whatever you say.”

Daniel groans, covering his face with his hands. “Oh my God.”

You sit back, grinning at him. “So, do you want me to keep him or not?”

He lowers his hands, shooting you a look that’s half amused, half irritated. “Obviously, you keep him. He’s the best driver on the grid.”

You nod, pretending to jot down notes in the air. “Okay, so keep Max. Got it.”

Daniel leans back against the couch, staring at you like he still can’t believe this is real. “I can’t believe you just bought a Formula 1 team.”

“I can’t believe I didn’t think of it sooner,” you say with a grin.

Daniel laughs, though it’s tinged with disbelief. “And you’re just … going to be the boss now?”

You shrug. “Why not? It’s not like I haven’t run a business before. Plus, how hard can it be to manage a Formula 1 team?”

He raises an eyebrow at you. “You do realize you’ll be dealing with, like, a whole bunch of egos and drama, right? It’s not just about racing. There’s politics, sponsorships, technical regulations …”

You wave a hand dismissively. “Details, details. I’ll figure it out.”

Daniel shakes his head, still grinning. “You’re unbelievable.”

“And that’s why you like me,” you quip, flashing him a playful wink.

Daniel’s smile softens, and for a moment, there’s a flicker of something in his eyes that you can’t quite place. But then he shakes his head again, chuckling. “Yeah, something like that.”

The two of you fall into a comfortable silence, and Daniel’s gaze drifts back to the ring box still sitting on the coffee table between you. It feels surreal — like the last few days have been one long, crazy dream that neither of you can wake up from. But somehow, despite all the madness, there’s a strange sense of peace settling over the room.

Finally, Daniel breaks the silence with a quiet laugh. “So … when do you get to meet the team?”

You grin. “Soon enough. I’ll introduce you as my fiancé. It’ll be fun to see the look on everyone’s faces.”

Daniel snorts, shaking his head. “Yeah, I’m sure that’ll go over well.”

“Oh, come on,” you tease. “You’ll love it. Don’t you like being the center of attention?”

He shoots you a playful glare. “I’m starting to regret this engagement.”

You laugh, leaning back into the couch. “Too late. You’re stuck with me now.”

Daniel chuckles, but there’s a warmth in his eyes as he looks at you. “Yeah, I guess I am.”

***

You and Daniel are curled up together on the plush couch, nestled under a thick blanket, a pint of ice cream balanced between the two of you. The glow of the TV flickers across the room as Crazy Rich Asians plays in the background, the glamorous scenes of Singapore flashing on the screen. You scoop a spoonful of ice cream and pop it into your mouth, your eyes glued to the over-the-top depiction of high society that, to you, feels more like a parody than reality.

“I mean, come on,” you mutter around a mouthful of ice cream, shaking your head. “That’s not how any of this works.”

Daniel glances at you, one eyebrow raised in amusement. “What do you mean? It looks pretty fancy to me.”

You roll your eyes, waving your spoon toward the screen. “Yeah, because all of us crazy rich Asians are just constantly jetting off to private islands in the middle of the week. And, of course, we throw dramatic, lavish parties for every minor inconvenience.”

Daniel grins, leaning back against the couch as he scoops up some ice cream. “I dunno, the whole secret wedding dress thing seemed pretty realistic to me.”

You nudge him playfully with your elbow, laughing. “Please. If anything, that’s understated.”

Daniel chuckles, shaking his head. “Alright, alright, so maybe Hollywood doesn’t exactly nail the rich lifestyle. But it’s entertaining.”

“Entertaining?” You snort, raising an eyebrow. “It’s borderline satire. Half the time, I’m watching these movies like, ‘Are you serious? Who even does that?’”

Daniel laughs again, clearly enjoying your commentary more than the actual movie. “Okay, but admit it, the wedding scene was pretty epic.”

You sigh dramatically. “Fine, I’ll give them that one. The water running down the aisle was a nice touch.”

“See? Even you have to admit there’s some good stuff in there,” Daniel says with a grin, licking his spoon.

You lean back against the couch, settling more comfortably into Daniel’s side as the movie continues to play. The ice cream between you starts to melt slightly, but neither of you seem to care, too caught up in the comfort of the moment. Your head rests on Daniel’s shoulder, and his arm is loosely draped around you.

There’s a comfortable silence between you two for a few minutes, the movie providing a soft background noise as you both watch absently. Then, without looking away from the screen, you break the silence with a casual question.

“Hey, so … do you want to drive for Red Bull next year?”

The question seems to catch Daniel off guard. His hand, mid-way to another scoop of ice cream, freezes in the air. He turns his head slightly to look at you, eyebrows furrowed in thought. He doesn’t say anything at first, and the silence stretches out long enough for you to glance up at him, wondering why he’s taking so long to respond.

“Daniel?” You prompt softly.

He pauses the movie, the room suddenly quiet without the chatter of characters and dramatic music. His face is serious now, a stark contrast to the playful mood from moments before. He places the spoon down in the pint and leans back, exhaling a long breath.

“I don’t know,” he finally says, his voice soft, almost hesitant.

You blink at him, confused. “You don’t know? What do you mean?”

Daniel rubs a hand over his face, looking down at his lap as if the answer is written there somewhere. “I mean, I don’t know if … if I deserve it. That seat.”

There’s a heavy pause as you process his words. The casualness of the evening suddenly feels distant, replaced by something more serious, more vulnerable. You turn slightly, facing him more directly now, your hand reaching out to rest on his knee.

“Why would you say that?” You ask, your voice quiet but firm.

Daniel looks up at you, his expression pained. “I’ve been dropped twice now. McLaren, VCARB … And, honestly, I didn’t do as well as I wanted. As well as they wanted. What if I’m just not cut out for it anymore? Maybe the sport’s moved on, and I haven’t.”

You frown, shaking your head in disbelief. “That’s not true. You’re still an incredible driver.”

Daniel lets out a bitter laugh, though there’s no humor in it. “Incredible? You’ve seen the results. I’m nowhere near where I used to be. And Max? He’s on another level. It’s his team now.”

“Okay, first of all,” you say, your tone shifting into something more assertive, “don’t compare yourself to Max. You’re both amazing in your own ways. And second, this isn’t about what they want, Daniel. It’s about what you want.”

Daniel doesn’t respond right away. He just stares at the frozen image on the TV screen, lost in his thoughts. His jaw is tense, and you can tell he’s grappling with something deeper, something that’s been weighing on him for a long time.

You squeeze his knee gently, your voice softening. “You’ve still got it, Daniel. I know you do. And so does everyone else.”

He glances at you, his eyes searching your face like he’s trying to find some kind of reassurance in your words. “But what if … what if I can’t get back to where I was? What if I’m just holding onto something that’s not there anymore?”

“You’re not,” you say firmly, not missing a beat. “You’ve had a rough few seasons, sure. But that doesn’t mean you’ve lost it. It just means you’ve had setbacks. And if anyone knows how to bounce back, it’s you.”

Daniel still looks unsure, and you can tell there’s a part of him that’s scared — scared of failing again, scared of not living up to the expectations that have been placed on him, both by himself and by others.

You lean in closer, your voice gentle but insistent. “Daniel, you’re one of the best drivers in the world. You’ve proved that time and time again. Red Bull wouldn’t have taken you back if they didn’t believe in you. And I wouldn’t have bought the damn team if I didn’t believe in you either.”

A small smile tugs at the corner of Daniel’s lips at that, though it’s fleeting. He runs a hand through his hair, exhaling deeply. “I just … I don’t know if I’m ready to go back. I don’t know if I can handle it if things go wrong again.”

You nod slowly, understanding the fear behind his words. It’s not just about driving. It’s about the pressure, the weight of expectation, the fear of failure.

“I get that,” you say softly. “But you can’t let fear stop you from doing what you love. You’ve been through a lot, I know. But that doesn’t mean it’s over. You have so much more left to give. And I’ll be there with you, every step of the way.”

Daniel meets your gaze, his eyes softening at your words. For a moment, the vulnerability in his expression is raw, unguarded. Then he reaches out, taking your hand in his, giving it a small squeeze.

“You really think I can do it?” He asks quietly.

You smile, squeezing his hand back. “I know you can.”

Daniel lets out a slow breath, his shoulders relaxing slightly as some of the tension seems to drain from him. He looks at you for a long moment, then nods, as if finally coming to terms with something inside himself.

“Alright,” he says, his voice a little steadier now. “I’ll think about it.”

“That’s all I’m asking,” you say with a soft smile.

He leans back into the couch, and you both settle into a comfortable silence again, the tension from earlier slowly fading away. You reach for the remote and unpause the movie, but neither of you are really paying attention to it anymore. Instead, you both sit there, sharing the ice cream, the weight of the conversation lingering in the air but somehow lighter now.

***

The evening is quiet, the city’s hum muted behind the large windows of your penthouse. The movie’s credits are rolling, but neither you nor Daniel has made a move to turn off the TV. Instead, you both sit there, wrapped up in the soft blanket, the nearly empty pint of ice cream abandoned on the coffee table. There’s a sense of calm in the air, but underneath it, you can feel something unspoken, simmering just below the surface.

You glance at Daniel, who’s leaning back into the couch, his gaze distant. He’s still processing, you can tell — about Red Bull, about everything that’s been thrown at him lately. The weight of it all seems heavier in the silence.

After a long moment, you shift slightly, turning your body to face him more directly. “Daniel,” you say softly, your voice breaking the quiet.

He blinks, coming back to the present, and looks at you with a small, tired smile. “Yeah?”

“You’ve said something a lot that I keep thinking about,” you begin, carefully choosing your words. “The whole ‘enjoy the butterflies’ thing. I’ve heard you say it in interviews, but I don’t think I ever really understood what you meant by it.”

Daniel’s smile falters a bit, and he looks away, his expression growing thoughtful. He doesn’t say anything at first, and you can see he’s retreating into his thoughts again, the way he does when he’s trying to figure out how to articulate something that matters to him.

You reach out, placing a hand gently on his arm, coaxing him back to the conversation. “What does it really mean to you? Enjoy the butterflies?”

Daniel takes a deep breath, his fingers fiddling with the edge of the blanket. “It’s … it’s kinda hard to explain,” he says slowly, his accent thicker when he’s being reflective. “It’s not just about racing, you know? It’s more about the feeling — the nerves, the excitement, the anticipation. All those little moments that make your stomach flip.”

He pauses, glancing at you as if gauging whether you’re following. You nod, encouraging him to continue.

“I think,” he says, his voice quieter now, “for the longest time, I used to hate that feeling. The butterflies. It always made me feel … unsure. Like, am I good enough? Am I ready? Every time I’d get in the car, no matter how many times I’d done it before, I’d still feel that little twinge of anxiety. And for a while, I thought it was a bad thing.”

You listen intently, your eyes never leaving his face as he speaks. There’s something raw and real in his words, a vulnerability that you don’t often see in him.

“But then, I don’t know,” he continues, “at some point, I started to see it differently. Like, maybe those butterflies aren’t a sign of weakness. Maybe they’re a sign that you’re doing something that matters. That you’re alive. That you care.”

You nod slowly, your hand still resting on his arm. “That makes sense.”

Daniel meets your gaze again, his eyes softening. “Yeah. So now, when I feel the butterflies, I try to embrace it, you know? Instead of fighting it. Because if you’re not nervous, if you don’t feel anything, then what’s the point?”

You lean back slightly, absorbing his words. There’s a quiet wisdom in what he’s saying, a reminder that life’s most meaningful moments are often the ones that scare us the most. You think about how that applies to you — not just in your relationship with Daniel, but in everything. The choices you’ve made, the risks you’ve taken, the moments when you’ve doubted yourself. Maybe those butterflies are a part of the journey, too.

“I get that,” you say softly, nodding. “But … do you still feel them? After all this time?”

Daniel smiles, but it’s tinged with something bittersweet. “Every single time.”

You look at him for a long moment, the weight of his honesty settling between you. There’s something comforting in knowing that even someone like Daniel — someone who’s faced so many high-pressure moments, who’s been at the top of his game — still feels that same uncertainty, that same flutter of nerves.

“But now,” he adds, his voice softening even more, “I think the butterflies aren’t just about fear. They’re about excitement, too. Like, yeah, maybe I’m nervous, but I’m also excited because it means I still care. I still love what I do, even when it’s hard.”

You smile gently, your hand giving his arm a reassuring squeeze. “That’s beautiful, Daniel. Really.”

He chuckles lightly, looking almost embarrassed by the compliment. “I don’t know about beautiful, but it helps me get through the tough days.”

There’s a pause, and you can feel the conversation shifting into something deeper, something more personal. You take a breath, feeling the moment settling between you like a quiet pulse.

“Do you ever get tired of it, though?” You ask, your voice barely above a whisper. “The butterflies, the pressure, the weight of it all?”

Daniel tilts his head back against the couch, staring up at the ceiling. He doesn’t answer right away, but when he does, his voice is tinged with a kind of quiet resignation. “Yeah. Sometimes. Sometimes it feels like too much, like it’s all building up and I just … don’t know how to keep going.”

His words hit you harder than you expected, and for a moment, you’re not sure how to respond. You’ve seen Daniel at his best, but you’ve also seen him at his lowest. The moments when he’s struggled, when he’s doubted himself. And yet, through it all, he’s always managed to push through. To keep going.

“But,” he continues after a beat, his voice soft but steady, “those moments don’t last forever. And when they pass, when I’m back in the car, or when I’ve crossed the finish line, it’s like … I remember why I do it. Why I love it.”

You watch him closely, your heart swelling with both admiration and empathy. “You’re stronger than you think, Daniel.”

He glances at you, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “Maybe. Or maybe I’m just stubborn.”

You laugh softly, shaking your head. “I think it’s a little bit of both.”

Daniel grins at that, the tension in his shoulders easing slightly. He shifts on the couch, turning more toward you, his hand reaching out to gently tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. There’s a softness in his touch, a quiet intimacy that makes your heart skip a beat.

“You know,” he says quietly, “you’ve got your own butterflies too. I’ve seen them.”

You raise an eyebrow, slightly surprised. “Oh, really?”

Daniel nods, his eyes locking onto yours. “Yeah. Whenever you’re about to make a big decision or when something’s stressing you out. You get this look in your eyes, like you’re bracing yourself for something.”

You blink, taken aback by his observation. “I didn’t realize you noticed.”

He smiles gently. “I notice a lot about you.”

The room falls into a comfortable silence again, the weight of the conversation hanging in the air like a shared secret. You can feel your heart beating a little faster, the warmth of Daniel’s words wrapping around you like a blanket.

“Do you ever wish the butterflies would go away?” You ask after a moment, your voice soft.

Daniel shakes his head slowly. “No. I don’t think I do. Because if they did, that would mean I’ve stopped caring. And I don’t ever want to stop caring.”

You nod, understanding now in a way you didn’t before. The butterflies aren’t something to fear — they’re a reminder that you’re alive, that you’re still passionate, that you’re still fighting for what matters.

You smile softly, leaning in closer to him. “I think I’ll try to enjoy the butterflies a little more.”

Daniel smiles back, his hand gently resting on your cheek. “Good. You should.”

And for the first time in a long time, you feel a sense of peace settle over you — a quiet understanding that, no matter what happens next, you’ll face it with open hearts and, yes, even a few butterflies.

***

The Red Bull Racing factory is a hive of quiet activity. The entire team, from mechanics to engineers, marketing staff to the senior management, stands gathered in a large meeting room just off the factory floor. Whispers ripple through the crowd, conversations hushed and speculative. It’s unusual to have the entire team assembled like this — especially during the off-season.

But today is different. They’ve been told that the team’s new owner will be making her first official appearance, and no one knows what to expect.

The announcement of Red Bull Racing’s sale had come out of nowhere, a shock to everyone. No one knew who the buyer was, only that it was someone with enough money to pull off the purchase in record time. The rumors had flown, the speculation mounting over the past few weeks, but nothing concrete had leaked. All they knew was that something big was coming. Something — someone — new.

The murmur of voices grows louder as the minutes tick by. Eyes dart toward the doors at the far end of the room, the anticipation palpable. Then, the doors swing open.

You walk in, a vision of confidence, head held high. The noise in the room instantly dies down, replaced by the stunned silence of dozens of pairs of eyes turning in your direction. Beside you, Daniel walks in, his hands casually tucked into his pockets, a familiar but unusual sight for the Red Bull team.

The shock is immediate, rippling through the room like a wave. Everyone stares, first at you, then at Daniel, as if trying to piece together how any of this makes sense. The whispers start up again, but you don’t let it faze you. Instead, you step forward with a wide, almost mischievous smile on your face.

“Good morning, everyone!” You greet them brightly, clapping your hands once, the sound echoing in the room. “I’m sure most of you have heard by now, but allow me to introduce myself formally. I’m your new boss.”

You pause, letting the statement sink in as the team stares at you in stunned silence. “My name is Y/N Y/L/N, and I’m thrilled to be taking over as the owner of Red Bull Racing.”

There’s a beat of silence, the team processing the bombshell, before a smattering of hesitant applause starts. You nod, acknowledging the claps, but there’s still a palpable tension in the room. You know they’re still confused, still reeling from the surprise. You’re not done yet.

“And I have one more introduction to make,” you say, a teasing smile tugging at the corners of your lips. You glance over at Daniel, who’s standing beside you, a little less sure of himself than usual but still flashing that signature Ricciardo smile. “This is my fiancé, Daniel Ricciardo.”

The room gasps. The shock is real this time, murmurs breaking out instantly among the team. Fiancé? Some people turn to each other, others crane their necks to get a better look at Daniel. The whispers intensify, but you continue as if none of it fazes you.

“And I have some exciting news for all of you today,” you say, your voice cutting through the growing chatter. You step forward again, your gaze sweeping across the room. “With the team being restructured, and with Sergio Perez deciding to take some time away from the sport to be with his family …” You pause, letting that hang for a moment, watching the confusion bloom on their faces. “I’m thrilled to announce that Daniel will be returning to Red Bull Racing as a driver next season.”

The room falls completely silent again, a collective intake of breath. For a long moment, no one says a word. Then, as if on cue, someone begins clapping. It’s slow at first, hesitant, but then others join in, and soon the room is filled with applause. The realization starts to settle in.

Daniel Ricciardo — back at Red Bull.

You glance at Daniel, and his eyes meet yours. For a second, you see the flicker of uncertainty in them, the weight of everything hanging in the air. But then, as the applause grows, you see the shift — the spark of confidence returning to him, the slow curve of a genuine smile spreading across his face.

Daniel steps forward, raising a hand to quiet the crowd, but they don’t stop clapping for several more seconds. Finally, the noise dies down enough for him to speak.

“Wow, uh … thanks for that,” Daniel begins, clearly taken aback by the reaction. He rubs the back of his neck, his grin widening as he takes in the faces of the people who, not so long ago, had been his team. “I’ve gotta admit, it feels pretty good to be standing here again.”

A few people in the crowd chuckle, a ripple of warmth spreading through the room.

“I know it’s been a strange few years,” Daniel continues, his voice more serious now. “There were times when I wasn’t sure if I’d ever get back to this place. But when Y/N came into my life, well, let’s just say she’s good at making the impossible happen.” He glances at you, his eyes filled with a mixture of admiration and affection, and you feel your heart flutter in response.

The room watches this exchange, enraptured. There’s something surreal about seeing Daniel Ricciardo, a former Red Bull driver, now standing next to the team’s new owner — his fiancée, no less. It’s a lot for them to process.

Daniel turns back to the team, his expression softening as he addresses them. “This place has always been special to me,” he says quietly. “I’ve had some of my best moments in my career here, and I’m so grateful for the chance to come back and create more memories with you all. I know it’s not going to be easy, and I’ve got a lot to prove. But I’m ready. I’m ready to give everything I’ve got.”

The room bursts into applause again, louder this time, more genuine. The team members seem to be warming up to the idea now, their initial shock replaced by excitement. A few of the senior engineers, who had been with the team during Daniel’s previous stint, exchange nods of approval. There’s a growing sense of anticipation, the mood in the room shifting.

You watch Daniel as he steps back, the energy of the moment clearly lifting him. He catches your eye again, and for a brief moment, it feels like it’s just the two of you in the room. His smile is softer now, more private, meant just for you. You feel a surge of warmth, the bond between you solidifying even more in this shared experience.

Then, clearing your throat, you step forward again, reclaiming the attention of the room. “Now, I know this is a lot to take in,” you say, your tone playful. “But don’t worry. Daniel and I aren’t here to shake things up too much … unless we need to.” A few chuckles ripple through the room at that. “We’re committed to making sure this team remains at the top of the sport. And we’re going to do whatever it takes to get there.”

The applause comes again, more enthusiastic this time. You can feel the room shifting from shock to acceptance, and even a little excitement. The Red Bull team is known for its resilience, for thriving in the face of challenges, and this is no different.

As the clapping fades, one of the senior team members — a man with graying hair and a knowing smile — steps forward. He glances between you and Daniel, then says, “Well, if Daniel’s back, I guess we better start preparing for some shoeys.”

The room bursts into laughter, and even Daniel can’t help but laugh along with them, shaking his head. “You better believe it,” he says with a grin.

Slowly, the group begins to disperse, people heading back to their workstations, some still murmuring excitedly about the news. You catch snippets of conversation — mentions of Daniel’s return, your surprising entrance, and speculation about what’s next for the team.

As the room clears, Daniel turns to you, his expression soft. “You’re really something, you know that?”

You smile at him, feeling the weight of the moment settle around you. “It’s just the beginning,” you say, your voice filled with determination. “We’ve got a lot of work ahead of us.”

Daniel grins, reaching for your hand. “Yeah, but I think we’re gonna be just fine.”

You squeeze his hand, your heart swelling with excitement and love. Together, you’ve just taken the first step into a new chapter — one filled with challenges, risks, and plenty of butterflies. But you know, with Daniel by your side, there’s nothing you can’t handle.

And as you leave the factory hand in hand, the future stretches out before you — unknown, thrilling, and entirely yours to shape.

***

The roars from the Melbourne crowd reverberate through the air as the final lap of the Australian Grand Prix begins. The cameras lock onto Daniel’s Red Bull, the #3 flashing as it leads the pack by several seconds. The circuit is electric, and the commentators can barely contain themselves.

“Here we are on the final lap,” David Croft’s voice crackles through the Sky Sports broadcast, almost trembling with excitement. “Daniel Ricciardo, the hometown hero, is this close to claiming his ninth career win — and his first ever win here in Australia. You can hear the crowd, the energy in the air — it’s absolutely incredible!”

Beside him, Martin Brundle jumps in, his tone equal parts admiration and disbelief. “This is what the fans have been waiting for, for years. After everything Daniel’s been through — leaving Red Bull, bouncing between teams, and now back with Red Bull and at the front of the grid — this will be a monumental moment, not just for Daniel, but for every Australian who’s dreamed of seeing him on the top step here.”

The camera flickers briefly to the Red Bull garage. You’re standing at the front, practically on your toes as you watch the live feed with bated breath, every nerve in your body tense with anticipation. You’re surrounded by engineers, mechanics, and team members, but it’s clear that all eyes in the garage are on you. The new team owner, the mastermind behind Daniel’s return to the team. And now, you’re witnessing the culmination of it all.

“Look at that,” Brundle says as the camera focuses on you. “There’s Daniel’s fiancée and the new team owner, Y/N Y/L/N. You’ve got to imagine what this moment means for her too, after buying the team and making the bold decision to bring Daniel back. She’s been nothing short of instrumental in this comeback.”

Crofty’s voice grows louder as Daniel approaches the final few corners. “And here he comes now, through Turn 13, a perfect line through there — keeping it clean. The crowd is going wild, and you can see why! He’s a few corners away from victory, from making history on home soil.”

As the camera switches back to the track, Daniel’s race engineer comes over the radio, his voice steady but filled with excitement.

“Alright, mate. Just bring it home now. One more corner. You’ve got this.”

There’s a brief pause before Daniel’s reply crackles over the airwaves, his voice barely containing his elation. “I’ve got it, mate! I’ve bloody got it!”

The Red Bull flies around the final corner, the engine roaring, and Daniel rockets down the straight toward the checkered flag. The crowd’s roar is deafening as he crosses the line.

“And there it is! Daniel Ricciardo wins the Australian Grand Prix!” Crofty yells, his voice barely audible over the roaring fans. “His ninth career win — and what a win it is! His first win here in Australia, and you can just feel how much this means to him and the crowd!”

The camera immediately cuts back to you, your face a mixture of disbelief and overwhelming joy. You’re laughing, hands clasped over your mouth as the enormity of the moment sinks in. The entire Red Bull garage erupts into cheers, people hugging and high-fiving all around you, but you’re frozen for a moment, just soaking in the euphoria of the victory.

“Look at her reaction!” Brundle says with a chuckle. “You can tell just how much this moment means to the team owner. It’s not just a win for Daniel — it’s a win for them. What a partnership!”

The scene cuts to Daniel inside the cockpit, raising his fists in victory as he slows the car on the cool-down lap. His voice comes over the radio again, almost breathless.

“YEEEEES! Let’s go! Oh my god, we did it! We actually did it!” Daniel shouts, his voice cracking with emotion.

“Mate, you’re a race winner in Australia!” His race engineer’s voice is filled with pride. “Take it in, soak it all in. This is your moment.”

“I’ve waited so long for this …” Daniel’s voice is quieter now, more introspective. “Thank you, everyone. This is unbelievable.”

As he makes his way around the track on the cool-down lap, the camera follows him, showing the thousands of fans on their feet, waving Australian flags and cheering for their hero. It’s an emotional scene, the kind that will go down in F1 history. The commentators fall silent for a moment, letting the raw emotion of the moment speak for itself.

Finally, Crofty breaks the silence. “Daniel Ricciardo has just made history. He’s become the first Australian driver to win here in Melbourne in front of his home crowd, and you can just see how much this means — not just to him, but to every fan in the stands.”

Daniel pulls into parc fermé, his car screeching to a halt under the massive “P1” sign. The mechanics are already leaning over the barriers, waiting for him, their arms raised in celebration. Daniel clambers out of the car, pulls off his helmet, and lets out a roar, his signature grin plastered on his face. The crowd erupts once more, their hero standing victorious before them.

The Red Bull team surrounds him, cheering and patting him on the back. But Daniel's eyes are searching, scanning the pit lane for you. Finally, they find you in the crowd, and without hesitation, he breaks away from the chaos and runs straight to you.

“Hey, boss,” he says, pulling you into a tight hug, his voice barely above the roar of the fans. “Did I do alright?”

You laugh, pushing him back playfully. “I’d say you did more than alright.”

Daniel grins, his smile wide and genuine, and then he’s swept back into the celebrations, the team lifting him onto their shoulders as the cameras capture every second.

The podium celebrations come next, the lights glittering, the trophy standing proud. Daniel, Max Verstappen, and Charles Leclerc climb onto the podium, their faces reflecting the joy and exhaustion of a hard-fought race. The national anthems play, first for Australia, then for Austria, and the crowd sings along, their pride and passion tangible.

When the champagne is finally handed out, Daniel holds his bottle aloft, savoring the moment. He walks to the edge of the podium, holding his finger up to signal the crowd. The fans know what’s coming. The mechanics in the garage know what’s coming. You, standing just below the podium, know what’s coming.

Daniel unlaces his boot and fills it with champagne, holding it high as he looks out over the sea of fans. The crowd roars with approval.

“Oh no …” Brundle says with a laugh, watching from the Sky Sports commentary booth. “Here we go. It wouldn’t be a Daniel Ricciardo victory without a shoey!”

Daniel grins and, with the flair only he can pull off, drinks the champagne from his shoe. The crowd cheers louder than ever, reveling in the chaotic joy of the moment. Even Max, standing beside him, cracks a smile as Daniel offers him the boot, but Max declines with a laugh, shaking his head.

As Daniel finishes the shoey, he looks down at you with a cheeky grin. He points the boot in your direction, his eyes twinkling.

“Wanna join in?” He shouts down, loud enough for the camera to catch.

You cross your arms, shaking your head with a smirk. “Absolutely not.”

Daniel laughs, tossing the boot aside and grabbing the champagne again, spraying the crowd as the podium celebration continues. The cameras capture everything, the joy, the fun, the relief of a long journey finally reaching its pinnacle.

Back in the commentary booth, Crofty speaks again, his voice soft but filled with admiration. “Daniel Ricciardo, a winner in Australia, celebrating in true Ricciardo style. This win means more than just points on the board — it’s the result of hard work, perseverance, and a love for racing.”

Brundle nods, his tone warm. “You’ve got to hand it to Daniel, and to Y/N Y/L/N as well. She brought him back to Red Bull, believed in him when others didn’t, and now they’re celebrating together on the biggest stage. It’s a fairytale moment.”

As the champagne rains down on the podium, Daniel glances over at you again, his face still lit up with that signature Ricciardo grin. And even though you’re not up there with him, he knows that none of this would’ve been possible without you by his side.

This is your team, your driver, and your moment.

[nichmeddar]

​daniel ricciardo

Racing to the beat - Daniel Ricciardo

summary: Daniel gets a new teammate in VCRB, a F2 female championship winner for the 2025 season. What he didn't expect was her to be extremely genz and a kpop fan.

pairing: fem rookie driver!reader x Daniel Ricciardo

AU: Social media!AU and Written!AU

warnings: swearing, use of yn, hate comments, reader is 25.

face claim: Amna Al Qubaisi for professional f1 photos, the rest are from pinterest.

a/n: hey guysss. this is my first time writing something like this, so any feedback is welcome! the story is set more in the future so it's not correct races wise. also let's pretend Daniel didn't retire (I miss him sm). okay love you and enjoy! <3

part one

F1 made a post

liked by ynusername, visacashapprb and others.

F1 BREAKING: Yn Yln joins RB for the 2025 season! The F2 graduate will replace Liam Lawson, who heads to Red Bull.

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visacashapprb Welcome to the team Yn!

ynusername ahhhh so excited to be part of the 2025 season! :D

user1 serving face on the track is what we need

user2 MOTHER MADE IT TO F1 !!!!!!

kimi.antonelli Can't believe we made to F1 together 🥺

ynusername so proud of us 😭

danielricciardo Welcome mate! :)

ynusername i'm so honored to race with you Daniel! :D (i'm totally not freaking out rn)

kimi.antonelli (yeah she's totally not freaking out)

user3 let's hope she doesn't bring drama into f1

user2 🤓☝🏻 just put the fries in the bag bro

ynusername made a post

liked by bestfriend, kimi.antonelli and others

ynusername little me, I hope you are proud <3

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bestfriend literally crying over here. I'm so proud of you pookie 😭

ynusername now I'm crying😭 thank you for supporting me through everything <3

olliebearman our journey continues 💪🏻

kimi.antonelli together forever 🤞🏻

ynusername together forever 🤞🏻

user4 can't wait to watch her eat up all these men

f1 everyone is proud!

danielricciardo we gotta show them what duo we can be

ynusername heck yeah we will!

user5 what does she exactly know about racing? hope she doesn't drag Daniel down

user2 there's the door 🫵🏻🚪

user6 I love women in stem 🙏🏻 liked by ynusername

liamlawson30 good luck Yn! have fun :)

ynusername thank you Liam :D

ynusername posted a story

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bestfriend no way you're bringing all of them!?

ynusername yes way, I paid for them, they are coming with me 🙂‍↕️

user7 A KPOP FAN???????? OH MY GODDDD

danielricciardo What is all that? looks like weirdly shaped books🤔

ynusername they are my kpop albums :)

danielricciardo Kpop? Definitely didn't expect you to be a fan, you have so many

ynusername you can call me a big fan lol. I can play you some of my favorite songs while training

danielricciardo Yeah sure, I learn something new everyday

[bunny-jpeg]

kink-o-ween - day four

daniel riccicardo - cockwarming

cw: smut/pwp, cockwarming, size difference/kink, secret sex, semi-public sex, unprotected sex, daniel is horny (and needy), restaurant sex

kink-o-ween: formula one edition - call of duty edition

you knew daniel could seduce a habit off a nun. he was an inferno that buried deep into someone and made them hot all over. you were no exception. your beloved danny had a mean streak in his, at least sexually. as much as you tried to push back on the insatiable lust he carried in him, sometimes the allure of the driver was too much.

you were confident that this dinner together would go swimmingly. one date before you spent the entire summer in your apartment feeding into daniel's sexual desires. after weeks apart, he hungered for you. therefore, you were proud that you managed to hold him off to have one nice dinner together.

so why were your panties in your boyfriend's pocket?

the place was quiet on a tuesday evening, the moon hung large in the sky and the food was delicious. but the food tasted dull on daniel's tongue, he yearned for something more. the weight of your cotton panties in his pocket was heavier than the wallet next to it. when he went to wash his hands before dinner, he took them out and gave them a good sniff.

call him perverted, but being exhausted from the intensity of racing left him little time to sate his other urges. he was running on empty by the time the season break occurred. so call him a little antsy for some affection from his beautiful girlfriend of almost three years.

you were mostly alone, you had the privacy to let daniel's eyes wander across your form. the softness of your face, how your curves looked into the dress you wore. he wondered if he could take you apart over the table and no one would notice. or care enough to say anything. he had that kind of buying power.

but he knew you'd die of embarrassment. it was bad enough he had to forgo your panties for the evening. but something crossed his mind that would make both of you happy.

"babe." he said as he propped his elbows on the table and rested his chin across his interlocked fingers, "come here. i missed you too much, you feel so far away."

you looked up from your meal and raised your eyebrows, 'danny."

he pouted a little, showing those big brown eyes that seemed to touch the depths of your soul. you sighed before you got up, you went to his side of the table and held his face for a moment before he got you down on his lap. you could feel his erection straining against his slacks.

"danny, if we need to. we can do it in the car."

"it'll take too long. your dress should cover any activities we do here. just warm it up a little. get familiar again." he kissed at your neck before he fed you a piece of his meal, "please."

you got off of daniel's lap for a moment and thanks to the privacy of where you were seated, he was able to get his cock out of his slacks and with a little work you got yourself onto it. you clutched onto the side of the table as you felt the stretch. maybe you two were a little less familiar than when he left.

the skirt of your dress has enough volume to cover both of your laps, hiding your activities of the evening. you rested against him, while his cock remained pressed against the softest parts of you.

"this feels insane." you said softly, but daniel silenced you with a kiss on the lips. his hand in your hair for a moment. he tasted like the expensive cut of meat he was having for dinner. it tasted good, but you knew he'd forgo food for a month if it meant keeping his dick in you.

"don't worry, babe." he said as he kissed your nose, "just don't be too loud." he remarked as he held your face for a moment, "we'll share my dinner tonight."

it was hard to ignore the growing of warmth in your middle. daniel ricciardo's cock was inside of you at an expensive restaurant. you were enjoying food, wine and the familiar girth of your lover's cock in your slick pussy.

so much could go horribly wrong, but the way his cock nudged against your sweet spot made you almost choke on your wine. you covered your mouth with your elbow as you swallowed the tart liquid. the coughs that went through you caused your pussy to clench which made daniel hold your hip tightly.

"careful, beautiful." he said as he kissed your shoulder, "don't want to get me too excited." then leaned over you to cut another piece of his food. he slowly fed it to you and kept his gaze on you.

most would assume this was some lavish display of public affection. not daniel's need to feel as close to you as he could get. you could feel the heat rise in your body as you rocked your hips a little. his cock was snug in your, but it felt right.

you ate and after you swallowed, he brought you in for a kiss. everything felt over-saturated as you mind tried to focus on everything at once. the lust, the food, the setting. it was a lot.

but you snapped back in reality when you heard someone's voice nearby. you looked over and saw the poor waiter by the table.

"how is everything?"

daniel leaned back in his seat a little, not enough to show what he was doing under your skirt. he smiled, "everything is lovely. thank you so much. actually, if you can, may we get some more wine?" his smiled was confident, like all seven inches of him weren't shoved inside your poor pussy.

the waiter nodded, "of course. i have to ask, is the chair you were seated in okay, ma'am?" he turned his attention to you.

you blinked for a moment, feeling the gaze of the waiter and your boyfriend on you. you swallowed, it was sink or swim. play it cool or have your face in the headlines. you took your lover's hand and held it close to your chest, daniel could feel your rapid heartbeat, "of course! i just really missed my boyfriend so i thought his lap was better option tonight." you gave your own smile, hiding that your core was shaking.

daniel looked at the waiter once more, "we promise everything is perfect." he laughed, "thank you though." then watched the waiter nod and walk off to get you some more wine. when he was far enough away, daniel held onto your hips and rutted up a little further in your sweet pussy. it almost made you choke on your drink once more.

daniel pressed his chest against your back, he curved over you like a shadow, "amazing acting, beautiful. if i didn't feel your heartbeat, i would've called it a convincing performance." he took the napkin and pressed it at the corner of your lips, "next time i'll order you some white wine. this is the second time you've choked, babe. don't want to ruin this pretty dress. it hides everything."

"shut up." you groaned a little bit, but composed yourself when the waiter came back with two glasses of wine. you thanked the man before he walked away and did your best to keep yourself composed.

daniel was feeling good, he knew he wasn't going to last long. and while he couldn't make you finish as well. but he'd make it when you got home, he'd happily lay you out for hours and devour your sweet pussy. he shifted his hips a little bit to get that rush through his body. he continued to feed you his meal, your meal grew cold. but daniel was more than happy to share.

"you're so beautiful." he said, "i can tell you're all flustered. poor thing." he chuckled low in your ear. he feed you some of the vegetables and kissed your chin where a bit of the sauce from the vegetables ended up. tasted better on your skin.

he moved against you a little more, small shifts of his hips allowed for him to get a little more friction against you. you felt like a dream, to daniel it was heaven. he buried his face into the back of your shoulder as the fork in his hand trembled. he came inside of your pretty cunt.

he shuddered and deeply exhaled. it took all the focus in him not to moan. he kissed an exposed part of your arm and muttered, "i love you. oh fuck, i love you."

you craned your neck to look back at him and were met with a kiss. heat was high in your face and you fanned yourself with daniel's napkin before you slowly got up on shaky legs.

when your dress exposed his wet cock to the evening air, he was quick to put it back in his slacks. he adjusted himself and leaned forward in his chair once more. his hands were still shaky as he picked up the wine glass and took a careful sip.

you knew that this was only act one of tonight's sexual adventures. you hoped that the rest of the even was less public. the last thing you needed was your face on the front page tomorrow. daniel reached out for you and held your hand across the table.

"i have to say." he said, "next time i wonder how well your pussy would pair with this wine." he chuckled and held the glass up with his other hand.

you could've thrown your napkin at him. daniel ricciardo, your loving boyfriend, could be an insatiable sexual hound sometimes. <3

[thef1diary]

thinking of how dirtbag!daniel would react to you squirting for the first time 😋

i imagine him being all cocky about it (as always ofc) after it happens but while it's happening he actually is a little bit star struck. not because it's his first time seeing a girl squirt but because he wasn't expecting it. he'd probably stopped paying attention to how many orgasms he'd given you already halfway through as he decided that night would be about pulling as many out of you as possible anyway

afterwards though he would definitely dedicate himself to getting you to do it again right after it happened as he enjoyed it so much

— oh he’s such a smug bastard, if he makes you squirt once, he’s definitely gonna do it again, this time on purpose. 18+ content below

Daniel was relentless tonight. His focus had been singular, unwavering, and entirely self-indulgent: making you cum until your legs gave out and you forgot your own name.

He’d been going for what felt like hours, barely giving you a moment to breathe in between. His mouth, his hands, his cock—each one like a weapon in his arsenal to ruin you completely. And now, as you were splayed beneath him, trembling and soaked with sweat and your cum, he was still far from satisfied.

His fingers worked you in a rhythm that felt impossible to withstand. The wet sounds filled the space around you, obscene and unmistakable, as he curled them inside you, brushing that devastating spot over and over again. He was so cocky, so goddamn sure of himself, but tonight, he had every right to be.

Daniel looked up from between your thighs, his dark eyes locking with yours as his tongue flicked out, licking the slickness off his lips. “You’re such a mess,” he murmured, though there was no real malice in his tone. Just satisfaction. Pride.

His hand slid from your hip to your inner thigh, holding you open as if he couldn’t stand the idea of you closing yourself off. “Can’t believe how fucking wet you are.”

Daniel grinned wickedly down at you, his fingers teasing your swollen, slick folds. He pressed his thumb against your clit, circling it just enough to make your hips jerk involuntarily. “Did you already lose track of how many times you’ve cum for me?”

“Daniel—” Your voice broke, a desperate moan cutting through the air as his fingers curled, hitting that spot inside you with precision. You grabbed at his wrist, your nails digging into his skin in a feeble attempt to slow him down, but he only smirked at your effort.

“Ah, ah,” he tutted, leaning in closer until his breath was hot against your ear. “You don’t get to tell me to stop. Not when you’re soaking my hand like this.”

You whimpered, your back arching off the bed as his hand pinned you down by your hip. “Dan—” you gasped, but the rest of his name was swallowed by the wave of pleasure building low in your belly.

“Shh,” he cooed, grinning as he watched you squirm. “Just take it. You can handle one more. Or five.”

You didn’t even have the energy to respond, your head falling back against the pillow as his fingers worked you over mercilessly. The wet sounds filling the room were filthy, the slick glide of his hand against you only fueling the fire low in your belly.

His fingers picked up their pace, thrusting into you harder, deeper, until the coil inside you snapped so violently it left you gasping. Your release hit you like a tidal wave, your thighs clenching as your entire body shuddered.

And that’s when it happened.

You felt it before you saw it, the gush of wetness spilling from you and soaking his hand, his arm, and the sheets beneath you. Your cry of pleasure was loud, unrestrained, as your thighs trembled uncontrollably.

For the first time that night, Daniel froze. His hand stilled, his jaw dropping slightly as he stared at the mess you’d made.

“Holy shit,” he muttered, almost to himself. His eyes darted from your face to the wetness covering his hand, and then back to you.

You felt the heat rush to your cheeks, embarrassment creeping in despite the way your body still pulsed with aftershocks. “I—Daniel, I didn’t—”

But he wasn’t listening.

His thumb dragged through the wetness coating your inner thigh, spreading it further as if he couldn’t get enough of it. A wide grin spread across his face as he pulled his fingers from you, bringing them to his mouth. He sucked them clean, groaning low in his throat at the taste. “Fucking hell,” he said, his voice dripping with satisfaction. “That’s the hottest thing I’ve ever seen.”

He shifted, crawling up your body until his face was inches from yours. His grin was wicked, his dark eyes gleaming with mischief and pride. “Didn’t know you had that in you, sweetheart. Guess I’m just that good.”

You rolled your eyes, but the teasing gesture was cut short by the way his hand cupped your jaw, his thumb brushing over your bottom lip. “Think we can do it again?” he murmured, his tone low and full of promise.

“Again?” you asked breathlessly, your body still trembling from the intensity of your release.

“Oh, definitely again,” he said, his lips curling into a smirk. “I want to see that pretty little body of yours lose control for me over and over. You’ve got more in you, I know it.”

Before you could respond, Daniel’s hands were on you again, his touch firm and possessive. He kissed you hard, his tongue claiming yours as he pressed you back into the mattress.

This time, when he slid his cock inside you, it felt like the world shifted. His movements were rough, unrelenting, his hands gripping your hips as he thrust into you with a singular focus.

And as the wet sounds of your bodies filled the air, Daniel leaned down, his lips brushing against your ear. “You’re gonna do it again,” he commanded. “You’re gonna squirt all over me, just like before. Understand?”

You could only nod, your mind too fogged with pleasure to form coherent words.

Daniel grinned, his teeth grazing your earlobe before he straightened up, pulling your hips higher as he drove into you harder, deeper. “That’s my girl,” he muttered, his voice rough with pride and lust. “Now let’s see how long it takes before these sheets are completely soaked, yeah?”

want more dirtbag!danny? send me an ask with your filthiest thoughts and it’ll get answered during one of my dirty drabble days

[pomegranatesarchive]

personal photographer | daniel ricciardo

pairing: daniel ricciardo x photographer!reader

summary: the one where daniel ricciardo is dating his personal photographer.

liked by danielricciardo, maxverstappen1, landonorris, and 527,153 others!

yourusername: my favorite daniel is a smiling one :D

view comments below!

user1: he looks so good

user2: y/n always makes sure she gets the BEST angles of daniel

user3: he is her bf 😭 can’t post photos of him off guard

maxverstappen1: gorgeous

yourusername: 🤨

danielricciardo: don’t be jealous baby (max we talked about this…)

maxverstappen1: i can’t help it, you look so good 🤤

yourusername: that’s MY boyfriend you’re talking about

maxverstappen1: until i make him mine ☺️

user4: #freeynfrommaxverstappen

landonorris: when can y/n come to my garage and take pictures for me?

danielricciardo: um never?

yourusername; don’t be rude daniel 🤨 just text me lando! we’ll figure something out

danielricciardo: um no you won’t. youre MY photographer, not LANDOS.

landonorris: i just want some pictures mate 😕

danielricciardo: WELL GET THEM SOMEWHERE ELSE

user5: jesus daniel it’s okay yns all yours…

liked by landonorris, maxverstappen1, charles_leclerc, and 725,018 others!

daniel3.jpg: the photographer gets photographed

view comments below!

user6: does anyone know what camera y/n uses professionally?? if you do pls let me know 🙏🙏

daniel3.jpg: she uses a canon EOS C70 cinema camera!

user7: that is…a 7 THOUSAND dollar camera.

user8: what the fuck

user9: sometimes i forgot that she’s like rich??

user10: i think that’s the camera daniel bought her as a birthday present, she used to use a Canon EOS Rebel T3i DSLR Camera!! that one’s more on the affordable side, and it lasted her yearrrsss

landonorris: oh but when i take photos of her it’s weird???

daniel3.jpg: YES!! she’s MY girlfriend

landonorris: I TAKE THEM SO I CAN SEND THEM TO YOUUUUUU

user11: y/n is so pretty 🤭🤭

daniel3.jpg: correct!!

user12: she’s so gorgeous

daniel3.jpg: 1000000% agree

user13: the easiest way to get a reply from daniel is to compliment y/n

maxverstappen1: why don’t you post me like this? 😕

daniel3.jpg: we’ve talked about this, you know y/n gets jealous

yourusername: WOW OKAY YOU SICK LIAR 🧍

user: i wonder how many pictures daniel has of y/n like this…

landonorris: LITERALLY thousands.

liked by danielricciardo, daniel3.jpg, maxverstappen1, and 410,017 others!

yourusername; he’s trying to take my job 😡

view comments below!

user14: he could NEVER do it like you tho

user15: y/n we know it’s like your literal job to take pictures of daniel, but pls pls pls the world wants more pictures of YOU

user16: uh pls tell me if the tattoo is on his butt cheek

landonorris: i know where it is 🤫🤫

user16: is it on his butt cheek???

user16: lando pls

user16: is it on the downstairs cheeks

user16: pls lando

user16: LANDO PLEASE

maxverstappen1: you get a tattoo for HER? but not for me. did you ever love me??

danielricciardo: baby please, you know you’re the only one for me

yourusername: he says as he places a kiss on my head AS we cuddle

maxverstappen1: YOURE A SICK MONSTER YN SICK SICK MONSTER.

user17: i’m so jealous of y/n

user18: you and me both sister

user19: i’m actually going insane I NEED TO KNOW WHERE THAT TATTOO IS

user20: man that chicken wing looks nice

user21: where exactly does one apply to take pictures of f1 drivers all day??

user22: wait..were y/n and daniel dating BEFORE she was hired or??

user23: they met on the job!! it was a straight out of wattpad moment

user24: you guys are the cutest ever

maxverstappen1: me and him are cuter.

user25: i’m starting to think it was never a joke..

. . .

notes; i’m thinking of making this like a series?? like f1 drivers dating their __ and it’ll be like, personal trainer, engineer, stylist, and things like that! thank you for reading ♡´･ᴗ･`♡

[lewisvinga]

a misunderstanding | daniel ricciardo x fem! reader x heidi berger

summary; in which a huge misunderstanding when y/n was on the paddock leads to a hate train on social media

fc; various girls on pinterest

warnings; hate comments, cursing

all works taglist; @goldenmclaren @namgification @c-losur3 @minkyungseokie @lavisenri @ollieshifts

note; requested !

masterlist !

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⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆

liked by heidiberger_, danielricciardo, and others !

yourusername: my bad guys, i’ll make sure to keep spare batteries in my bag

tagged; heidiberger_, danielricciardo

heidiberger_: i’ll carry them for u my sweet girl

yourusername: awh shucks ☺️

danielricciardo: i say go full on comando and leave your hearing aids at home

yourusername: and ignore you yapping?

danielricciardo: that’s what sign language is for, to keep yapping, duh🤓🤓

heidiberger_: like not wearing your hearing aids ever stopped danny from yapping

yourusername: ur so right babe

username: LMAOSLSKS UNBOTHERED😭

username: she dgaf i love her

username: as someone who is also hoh, it means sm that you are too❤️

yourusername: 🥹🥹

username: CLOCKED Y’ALLLL

username: knew my it girl wasn’t rude 💯💯

username: ok but her, heidi, and daniel are the CUTEST EVER😣😣

maxverstappen1: y/n may be hoh but that doesn’t stop her from listening to me😁

yourusername: unfortunately no one can stop maxplaining😕😕

alexandrasaintmleux: we’ll all carry spare batteries for u so ppl don’t think ur rude when ur the sweetest ever 😁❤️❤️

lilymunihe: #buyingthemrn

iamrebeccad: we got youuuu🥰🥰

heidiberger_:🥹❤️

yourusername: my girlssss🫂🫂

username: period💅

username: yall couldn’t have fooled me when there were COUNTLESS of stories of y/n being so nice 😭

username: EXACTLYY, at least we now all know it was a big misunderstanding 🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️

[vivwritesfics]

Hooked On A Feeling (FIN)

Masterlist

Daniel is a Formula One driver, but, more importantly, he was a single dad to a wonderful little girl. He wants her to be a normal little girl, to have a normal social life, so he sends her to daycare. That was where she met Milo, her future best friend.

Milo's mother was incredibly stressed. She worked so hard to provide a good life for her son. But then he makes a new friend, a friend who has a hot dad (ofc they fall in love)

43.6K

Single Dad!Daniel x Single Mum!Reader

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty-One

Chapter Twenty-Two

Chapter Twenty-Three

Chapter Twenty-Four

Chapter Twenty-Five

Aus Grand Prix Special

Wedding Special

Blurbs

Hoaf Stuff

High On Believing

Chapter One